Like Water to a Fish

The other day I read an article by a long-time friend and fellow activist, Heshmat Tabarzadi. I was struck by the powerful words, the courage that did not mince words, but cut directly to the point. Tabarzadi still lives in Iran, and it is for him and for the thousands of others fighting for freedom for Iran, that we must come out on 16 Azar.

I met Heshmat more than a decade ago. We were both growing our student organizations, and we forged an alliance called the United Student Front. In those days we didn’t agree on every point, but the one area we absolutely agreed upon was that the Islamic Republic of Iran had to change. Over the years we have remained friends.

The overall gist of the article was a message from Tabarzadi directly to the Islamic Republic of Iran. This, following the third time in six days of having his family threatened by the regime’s hired assassins who think nothing of abducting, torturing, and murdering innocent citizens of Iran. Last week one of them stopped Tabarzadi’s daughter as she was on her way to school. He told her that he had heard she was a good student, asking her to get in the car and promising to help her with her studies. Tabarzadi’s daughter was able to avoid him, returning home, understandably upset.

The rage Tabarzadi felt at the fate his daughter could have come to at the hands of one of the Islamic Republic’s thugs inspired a piece of writing that, if you read Farsi, you shouldn’t miss. For those who don’t read the language of Persia, I will tell you that there was great honor in the words of my friend. In each section Tabarzadi addresses different members of our country: The Forces of the Vali Faghih (Supreme Leader), Khamanei, the killers and rapists who prey upon young Iranians, the good people of Iran, and to the Reformists.

One of the threats Tabarzadi received via a letter from Evin Prison said that prison officials didn’t need a legal ruling to arrest him and put him back in jail. To this Tabarzadi said, “For activists, jail is the same as water to a fish.” I was struck by this, as it is exactly my own experience. Prison, when you are fighting for a cause, is bittersweet. You are there for your belief, and as painful as it is, whatever your fate, you are there for your cause.

When he goes on to address Khamanei, Tabarzadi says, “my wife and children, my honor, and all that I have, I give to my country and to my people.”

Tabarzadi ends the article announcing to the good people of Iran, the children of Cyrus, that on 16 Azar at 5:00 p.m. he will be at Tehran University with thousands of young people. He encourages others to join the protest, and he assures anyone reading the article that as long as he has blood running through his veins, he will continue to fight for freedom for his people.

To my friend, Heshmat Tabarzadi, I wish you safe passage in all that you do.

On 16 Azar I will stand with other Iranians and supporters of freedom, and together we will remember, not only the three students in 1953 who lost their lives, be we will remember all those innocent lives since who have suffered, and most specifically those who have been beaten, tortured, raped, and killed by the repressive regime of the Islamic Republic of Iran.

From across the world we will remember you and all those who stand for freedom for Iran. May we one day in the not so distant future be free from the shackles of dictatorship.

Long live freedom and democracy.

16 Azar Demonstrations

Berkeley
Sunday, December 6, 2009
3:00 to 6:00 p.m. Local Time
Bancroft & Telegraph

London
Monday, December 7, 2009
6:00 to 9:00 p.m. Local Time
Opposite the Embassy of the Islamic Republic of Iran

by Heshmat Tabarzadi

27 November 2009

طبرزدی : نیرو های ولایت فقیه خانه به خانه به دنبال مبارزین و مخالفین افتاده اند تا ان ها را به وحشت
بیندازند
سومین تهدید برای من و خانواده ام طی 6 روز گذشته
طی 6 روز گذشته سومین تهدید را از نیرو های امنیتی رژیم ادم کش،متجاوز،ضدبشری و قرون وسطایی اسلامی حاکم بر ایران دریافت کردم. در تهدید اول،دامادم را به دفتر پیگیری وزارت اطلاعات واقع در خیابان صبا احضار کردند.به زودی دریافتند که این تهدید کارساز نبود.
نوبت دوم احضاریه ای مجعول از اجرای احکام زندان اوین پشت در خانه ام انداختند که به من بفهمانند که بدون دادگاه نیز می شود حکم صادر کرد و سپس به دنبال اجرای ان بر امد.اما نیک می دانند که زندان برای مبارز همچون اب است برای ماهی. پس با این ترفند نیز نمی توان طبرزدی را از میدان به در کرد.
امروز اما تهدید ضد انسانی و متناسب با شان رژیم سراسر جهل و تجاوز اسلامی را به نمایش گذاشتند. ان ها که مرتب تلفن خانه ی ما را کنترل می کنند می دانستند که دختر من که دوره ی پیش دانشگاهی را سپری می کند امروز ادینه باید بدون سرویس به مدرسه برود.در مسیر برگشت فردی رنو سوار با ریش و پشم و قیافه ی ادم های متجاوز و ادمکش، راه را بر فرزند من می بندد. او کارتی نشان داده و می گوید که نگران نباش از دادگستری هستم.رشته ی ریاضی می خوانی؟شنیده ام که درست هم خوب است. بیا بالا نترس چند تا سوال ازت دارم؟
او مدعی می شود که اموزشگاه دارد و می تواند به او کمک کند که رتبه اش زیر صد باشد(!؟)این نیروی تحت امر ولایت اصرار می کند که فرزند من را سوار اتومبیل کند که موفق نمی شود. چون دختر طبرزدی مثل خودش شیر است و نه شیره ای قاتل و ادم کش.او هراسان به خانه امد و ماجرا را برای ما بازگو کرد.
امروز دریافته ام که نیرو های ولایت فقیه خانه به خانه به دنبال مبارزین و مخالفین افتاده اند تا ان ها را به وحشت بیندازند و یا از ان ها انتقام بگیرند. چند روز پیش از خانم ستوده شنیدم که با خانواده ی شیرین عبادی نیز چنین کرده اند.
بسیار خوب! ولی اجازه دهید تا من به خامنه ای و نیرو های تحت امر او بسیار شفاف سخن بگویم.پیش از این هم گفته ام و یک باردیگر نیز تکرار می کنم. زن و بچه ی من ،ابروی من ،جان من و هر انچه دارم فدای ایران و مردم ایران.دیشب یکی از زنان شیردل ایرانی از ترکیه با من صحبت می کرد. او اینک یک پناه جو است. از کسانی است که در زندان خامنه ای و توسط نیرو های تحت امر او از 30 خرداد به مدت چندین روز مورد تجاوز قرار گرفته است.وقتی با من سخن می گفت گریه به او امان نمی داد. به او گفتم :عزیزم،خواهرم
،شرافتم،افتخارم، تو را مورد تجاوز قرار داده اند. اما تو گریه نکن. مثل کوه باش و افتخار کن که بهترین سرمایه ات که همانا ناموس و عصمت و پاکی ات بوده است را برای ایران و ایرانی از تو گرفته اند. تو افتخار ایران هستی. پس قوی باش و گریه نکن. می گفت دو فرزندم را ایران جا گذاشته ام و شوهرم را که حتا نمی داند چه بلایی برسر من اورده اند.
من در عین حالی که از درد این زن با شرافت ایرانی به خود می پیچیدم اما به افتخار و شرافت او رشک می بردم. شرافتی که با چنین هزینه ی سنگینی به دست اورده است.او با صدای امریکا نیز صحبت کرده که در شرایطی که خودش لازم بداند ان مصاحبه پخش خواهد شد تا خامنه ای به حکومت خود و نیرو های تحت امرش ببالد!
اما من سخنی با نیرو های تحت امر ولایت دارم. البته حساب ،اکثریت بسیجی ها و سپاهی ها و امنیتی ها را که می دانم ادم های ایرانی و با شرافتی هستند را از ان اقلیت مزدور و ادم کش و متجاوز جدا می کنم.به ان ها می گویم اگر فرزندان و همسر و بستگانم را یکی یکی در پیش چشمانم سر ببرید یا به ان ها تجاوز کنید،به شرافت انسانیت و ایران دست از مبارزه بر نخواهم داشت.پس خود را برای هر جنایتی اماده کنید و اماده هستم.سر راه یک دختر بچه که می دانید همه ی فکر و ذهن او درس است و شاگرد ممتاز مدرسه اشان است را بیهوده نگیرید. این بار ناگهانی بر سر او بریزید او را با خود ببرید و ان چه در شان خودتان است و با زنان و دختران ایرانی انجام دادید با او هم انجام دهید و جسم نیمه جان او را در خیابان رها کنید تا من بیایم و با افتخار او را جمع کنم.
سخنی نیز با مردم عزیز میهنم دارم. عزیزان با شرافت. فرزندان کوروش بزرگ.انسان های با شرافت. من روز 16 آذر ماه ساعت 5 پس از ظهر به همراه هزاران جوان و دانشجوی شما در دانشگاه تهران خواهم بود.من دست و پای شما زنان و مردان با شرافت ایرانی را می بوسم. شما را به شرافت و انسانیتی که دارید سوگند می دهم که 16 آذر فرزندان و پدران و مادران خود را تنها نگذارید. من اگر تا ان روز بودم و در زندان نبودم همچون روز قدس و 13 آبان در خیابان خواهم بود.
می دانید که این ادم خواران برای پول نفت و برای ثروت هایی که گرد اورده اند و برای حفظ باند های قدرت و جنایت ،دست به هر اقدامی می زنند تا شما مردم در روز 16 آذر از خانه بیرون نیایید.بیایید و یک بار دیگر تصمیم گرفته و سواره و پیاده به سوی دانشگاه تهران و در شهرستان ها به سوی مکان هایی که مبارزین مشخص می کنند،هجوم ببریم و ادم کش ها را مایوس کنیم. باید ایران از دست این ادم خواران رها شود.
سخنی نیز با اصلاح طلبان و روحانیان دارم.این بلا را شما ها بر سر ایران اوردید و اینک خود نیز گرفتار شدید.
از زندان و کتک خوردن و ابرو دادن نهراسید. از کروبی و منتظری و صانعی و موسوی و خاتمی و دستغیب ها بیاموزید. بیایید و یک صدا مردم را به تظاهرات مسالمت امیز دعوت کنید و خود نیز در ان شرکت کنید.با این کار خود ،ابروی از دست رفته ی اسلام و شیعه را ممکن است تا حدودی جبران نمایید.کاری کنید که در فردای پیروزی ملت ایران ،در این مملکت اخوند کشی و مسلمان کشی به راه نیفتد.امروز و پیش از این تهدید جدید،با همسرم که فردی عمیقا مذهبی،غیر سیاسی و مسالمت جو است صحبت می کردیم. من به او می گفتم با این کار خامنه ای و دار و دسته اش تا ابد اسلام از ایران رخت بر خواهد بست.او به من می گفت که ادم از این ها وحشت دارد. از مامور ساده ی دادگاه تا بازجو و بالاتر هایشان. خدا کند ادم به دست این ها نیفتد.دیدم خودش با خودش می گفت باید همه ی این ها را کشت!او ادمی است که دل کشتن یک مورچه را نیز ندارد.
اما مراجع تقلید شیعه و برخی علمای غیر حکومتی و انسان های متدین باید به هوش باشند که تا کنون نیز زمان گذشته است. پیروان ولایت فقیه ،قمه به دست به جان مردم افتاده اند. در روز 13 آبان در جلوی چشم ملیون ها ایرانی و ملیون ها غیر ایرانی،دختران و زنان و پسران ایرانی را انگونه اماج توهین و باتوم و مشت ولگد قرار دادند. ولی سردار نقدی غیر ایرانی ادمکش که اخیرا حضرت ولایت او را به سرداری بسیج مفتخر کرده اند، می گوید که ما هنوز سرکوب نکرده ایم.فقط لباس یکی دونفر پاره شده است!؟ ای اف بر ما ایرانیان که یک غیر ایرانی این گونه تحقیرمان کند!
به شرافت ایرانی و به حقیقت انسانی ،بنای تحریک و تهدید و پرگویی ندارم.من ادم به شدت مسالمت جویی هستم. اما نیک می دانم که اگر در شرایط کنونی که این اژدهای هفت سر و این ضحاک زمان را زخمی کرده ایم،کوتاه بیاییم به بلای بزرگ و جبران ناپذیر گرفتار خواهیم شد.
زنده باد ازادی-برقرار باد دموکراسی-گسسته باد زنجیر استبداد.
حشمت اله طبرزدی/ادینه/6/آذر ماه/1388/خورشیدی

Reprinted from Peykeiran

http://www.peykeiran.com/Content.aspx?ID=9951

16 Azar

Young people continue to die in Iran.

In December of 1953 following the coup d’état that overthrew Prime Minister Mohammad Mossedeqh, students of Tehran University staged a protest in response to a visit by then U.S. Vice President Richard Nixon. During the demonstration police shot and killed three students. Today when we read about the deaths of Ahmad Ghandchi, Azar Shariatrazavi, and Mostafa Bozorgnia more than 50 years ago, it isn't hard to see the similarities they had with students today. They were passionately seeking freedom, and they were disturbed by the turn of events involving Great Britain and the U.S. CIA and their interference in Iran.

The Student Movement in Iran today may very well be fighting battles that evolved from the same struggles students in 1953 faced.

Last week once again we saw the face of another young Iranian whose life was cut short by the violent regime of the Islamic Republic of Iran. Ehsan Fattahian like Bahman Jenabi, Ashkan Sohrabi, Neda Agha Soltan, Mehdi Karami,Omidreza Mir Sayafi, Amir Heshmat Saran, Zahra Kazemi, Ebrahim Lotfollahi, Akbar Mohammadi, Ezzat Ebrahim-Nejad, and countless others, is the latest to become a symbol of all that is wrong with human rights in Iran.

The regime knows the power of its youth, and they continue to strike out at the sons and daughters of Iran who are asking for basic human rights. What we know about Iran is that in the last 30 years the youth have increasingly become the strongest voice in a movement to change a cruel and unforgiving government. With more than two-thirds of its population under the age of 30, is there any wonder that fair, democratic elections are out of the question for the Islamic Republic?

Since 1953, 16 Azar (December 7) has been celebrated annually as Students Day in Iran. Though the political climate has seen varying kinds of students participating in the events, the significance of student activism in Iran remains an important way of swaying the politics.

This year, more than any other since 1953, how students show their solidarity for a secular, democratic government in Iran will be key to the movement that came to the forefront following the fixed election in June of this year.

Those of us who are outside the country are watching and waiting, and in truth there are times when it is excrutiating to be out here, and not there among them, and part of the fight. What we can do, what we must continue to do, is to let them know that they have not been forgotten by us. Nothing that happens in the media can take our attention away from the struggle for freedom going on in Iran.

For this we stand, again, and we send a message to our brothers and sisters in Iran that we are with you, and we will not forget.

16 Azar in Berkeley
Sunday, 6 December 2009
3:00 to 6:00 p.m., Pacific Time
UC Berkeley - Bancroft & Telegraph

For more information or to let us know of other locations demonstrating on 16 Azar, call Arash at 510.705.3005, email parsy11@yahoo.com, or find International Alliance of Iranian Students on Facebook by searching for IAIS.

Images of Camp Ashraf

The disturbing images of Iranians being threatened and beaten and killed has become all too common these days on all the online media. When I see baton-wielding men in uniform beating civilians, wherever they are from, I am disheartened. When I see that the victims are from my own country, I see in their faces my sister, my mother, my aunts and uncles and grandparents, and I am sickened.

On July 28, 2009, Iraqi forces stormed Camp Ashraf, the compound of the Mujahideen Khalq Organization since 1986. Seven members of the organization were killed, and the number of those injured is still unclear, but likely very high. Dozens of members have been taken into custody for questioning. The headquarters that houses some 3400 Iranian men, women, and children, had been under the protection of the U.S. government until January of this year, when their care was turned over to the newly empowered government of Iraq.

I am not a member of the Mujahideen Khalq Organization. I have never worked with them nor have I had contact with their organization. My ideology is quite different from theirs, in fact. However, I am an Iranian. More than that, I am a human being, and it is my strongest believe that we cannot watch these acts of violence without reacting.

In the post-election protests in Iran, many who are part of the reformist movement have been arrested. Some have been released, but many are still behind bars. A decade ago there were reformists inside the student movement who didn’t believe in our group’s philosophy. When they saw us being imprisoned and forced to give televised speeches under duress, though they had newspapers and a greater level of support within the government, many of them kept quiet. Some of them even called us Western-backed anarchists. Today some of these same people are suffering at the hands of the Islamic Republic because of their activities in the wake of the Iranian elections. For close to two months now, along with other members of our group, I have watched and though we have our differences, I support them. I do not wish them ill, and I pledge to do whatever I can to help them in their current struggle. I say this, not as something extraordinary on my part, but because it is my belief. We must support one another against dictatorship.

Concerns for the safety of the Mujahideen who live in the compound has been at the forefront of human rights groups, and even the Bush administration considered taking their group off the terrorism watch list before leaving office. Had Bush’s people taken them off the list, this would have at least given Iranians living in Camp Ashraf some kind of hope of finding refuge in another country in the Middle East or Europe. At the end of the day, true to form, Condi Rice opted to leave things status quo, and residents of Camp Ashraf in their current vulnerable state. At the moment their plight hasn’t been addressed by the current U.S. Secretary of State, Hillary Clinton.

My point here is simple. We may not all agree with one another, but as human beings we must stand up when injustice is staring us in the face. The members of the Mujahideen Khalq Organization who live in Camp Ashraf have an ideology that is not in line with my own, yet if they are returned to Iran, as Prime Minister Nuri Kamal al-Maliki of Iraq has hinted, they will come to a very violent end.

Historically, the Islamic Republic of Iran has always demonstrated a strong vengeance toward the Mujahideen. Nowhere was that more apparent than in the 1988 killing of political prisoners, sanctioned by Khomeini himself. Estimates range anywhere between 8000 to as many as 30,000 political prisoners who were executed in five months.

The current fate of the residents of Camp Ashraf is still unknown. Time is running out for them, and their only hope outside of being returned to Iran is finding countries willing to grant members political asylum. From where we sit, our best bet is to lend our support via our writing, our spoken word, our protest, and our media contacts. We cannot sit by and let the men and women inside Camp Ashraf become yet another statistic--another unfortunate outcome for another group of Iranian people.

When I Remember Akbar...

29 July 2009

Tomorrow will mark the three year anniversary of the death of my friend and fellow student movement activist, Akbar Mohammadi. He died in Evin Prison.

For several days now I have tried to think about how to write these words. Some pain is just too hard to write, so I will start with facts, and perhaps the words will come. Akbar Mohammadi was part of the July 1999 student movement in Iran. He believed passionately in freedom for the people of Iran. He had a love of country that was remarkable. At the protests our group organized both before and after 18 Tir, Akbar was never far from me, and was outspoken in his passion for the movement. During one of the protests following the dormitory attacks a member of Ansar-e Hesbollah lunged at me with a knife. I was completely blindsided, and it was Akbar who pulled me out of reach and in all likelihood saved my life that day.

When Akbar believed in an idea he followed it to the ends of the earth. During the Iran/Iraq war at the young age of 13 years old Akbar was so disturbed by the Iraqi attacks on our country that he tried to enlist in the army. At that time he was denied entry into the war because of his age, but he persisted until a year or so later, when they finally let him in.

Akbar survived the war and went on to be one of our most active members. The simple truth about him is that he wasn’t particularly interested in making strategic decisions. But once a decision was made, he was someone who executed on plans. He was our best foot soldier in the student movement. He was there to implement what we decided, and he was extremely loyal.

Akbar's strength was what set him apart from most anyone I’ve ever known. He was fiercely strong against the Islamic Republic, and it was that strength that they would ultimately be put to the test in his final days in Evin Prison.

On the day that I was captured after the protests of 18 Tir, Akbar was also arrested at Tehran University. At that time there was a secret jail reserved specifically for political prisoners that we later learned was called Tohid. It was later closed, and became a museum signifying what the Islamic Republic would have people believe was the remnants of the Shah's rule, however, the regime took it to new heights of cruelty before closing its doors.Tohid prison was the darkest place imaginable. It was the place they took us upon our arrest, and it was where they tried to break us. At times they would bring Akbar in to watch my torture sessions, or those of his brother. They did the same for me during Akbar's sessions, though I have tried over the years to put these memories away. What I will say is that Akbar could not be broken.

I also saw Akbar when we finally were given a court hearing and they put us in the back seat of a car, blindfolded and lying on our sides, our feet and legs touching. When we both realized we rode together, there was great joy for an instant.

After months of torture in Tohid prison, we got the word that they were moving us to Evin Prison. For us, this was very good news. Akbar and I believed we were going to the same area within the prison, that the hard times were over for both of us, and that we would be sent to the student section of Evin to wait out the remainder of our sentences. We shook hands in the car on the way over, locking our fingers together for a short embrace before we reached our destination. We were happy at that moment, and in his usual way, he reassured me that everything was going to be okay. When we reached Evin Prison, the unexpected happened. The guards separated us. They took Akbar to Section 209 of the prison.

While the extreme torture of Tohid had ended for me, Akbar’s would continue at Evin Prison. Eventually he was moved with the other student prisoners, but the toll his body had taken was simply too high. He suffered more than any of us for his beliefs. Akbar’s legacy in the student movement was that he came to signify torture by the Islamic Republic.

On July 30, 2006, Akbar Mohammadi died in Evin Prison. Subjected to years of torture that went far beyond what I endured, his physical health was already fragile, and after more than a week of a hunger strike, his body gave out. Whether his death was of natural causes as the Islamic Republic would have us think, or whether the torturers themselves stopped his heart from beating, at the end of the day Akbar died at the hands of the Islamic Republic of Iran. What there is to say about Akbar is that there has never been a better fighter for any cause. He was strength personified. His courage in the face of such tyranny is beyond what most of us mere mortals can conceive of. By the time he died, his body was no longer that of a thirty-seven year old man. He suffered from a loss of hearing in one of his ears, and he had major kidney problems, and internal bleeding.

Before his last days at Evin Prison he had a couple of years outside of prison walls. He was released because of his physical ailments so he could seek medical attention. During that time a book was published in the U.S. in Akbar’s name. Not long after that the Islamic authorities picked Akbar up and took him back to Evin Prison. I have often wondered why he didn’t leave Iran during one of his temporary visits home. I believe Akbar must have thought he could endure for the movement.

The circumstances of Akbar’s death have always been questionable. He was taken to the infirmary shortly before he died. He was continually beaten, even during the fast he was undertaking to protest his return to prison. It is believed that he was injected with a substance while in the infirmary, and shortly after that he died.

The events that followed were no less heartbreaking than the last several years of Akbar’s life had been. The government wouldn’t allow his family to bury him in Tehran, and neither would they agree to bury him in his home town of Amol in the Mazandaran Province. He was later buried in a small village cemetery in Changemian. His body was badly beaten, and he was almost unrecognizable according to those who witnessed his remains before he was buried.

And so to my friend, Akbar Mohammadi, I say, this year and every year, I will remember how you fought. I will remember your bravery, and just as we promised one another all those years ago, I will continue to fight in your name, and in the names of all those who have suffered at the hands of the oppressors of the Islamic Republic of Iran. I will not give up, just as you never gave up.

Iranian You

Leila Radan is a blogger for over four years, a writer, actress, model and yoga teacher. As an Iranian-American, she is eager to do what little she can to help her people’s cause. She is working on her first book and currently resides in San Francisco.

I am part Iranian, part Danish. Mention of my Iranian blood stops people in their tracks these days. It used to be something that most outside our San Francisco bubble avoided. “Iranian”. Not anymore.

The world is watching, not enough, but the world is finally watching.

So people want to know how I feel. What is this conflict about? How am I impacted as an Iranian woman?

Yes, they hear the catch word of the day, “Iranian”, and they want to know how I feel.

Hmm…

I was on Facebook the moment the video of the now-well-known-then-unknown-and-nameless-woman Neda’s death was released. I watched her die.

I saw footage of Basijis on rooftops shooting at the crowd beneath… with real bullets… casually walking from one side to the other to shoot some more… and kill some more.

I witnessed a man receive a savage beating by Basijis as he screamed at the top of his lungs… not for mercy… not for help… just screams, shrieks of pain, as he lay bloodied on the floor, vulnerable, desperate, only to be stuffed into the trunk of a police car as an officer screamed at him to put his leg in so that he could shut the trunk.

Elsewhere a woman… maybe it was a man?… knelt by a puddle of blood on the sidewalk, crying, her… or his… hands soaked in that blood.

In the middle of the street, in broad daylight for all to see, a shirtless and bloodied man was dragged like an animal by several riot officers who’d beat him mercilessly along the way. At the end of the footage they stood him up against a car but he could barely stand, his head fell back and I caught a glimpse of his face.

A group of women huddled around a child I could not see but whom I know was beaten by a Basiji, a 7-year-old, as his mother shrieked.

In other footage shot some days later a 10-year-old was killed and, mixed in with primal screams of anger, pain and shock, were chants of “Mikosham, mikosham, an ke baradaram kosht.” I will kill, I will kill he who killed my brother.

Sometimes I couldn’t see anything. It was dark but I heard the chants of “Allah-o Akbar” on Tehran’s rooftops.

Once I also heard shrieks of terror as Basijis invaded a home in the dark, terrorizing its innocent inhabitants.

Later I learned that this became a new nightime norm accompanied by the practice of ground based militia men shooting blindly up into the night sky… at those chanting on the rooftops.

Demonstrators were arrested and hauled off to the feared Evin prison.

Testimonials and articles of the now expected torture leaked out as we received news that our cousin’s son was taken… to Evin.

I read vivid descriptions of beatings that left a college student unrecognizable. Every tooth in his mouth, save four, was smashed. His body bruised and broken beyond description. His anus ruptured from the repeated rape he was subjected to. His spirit broken.

I barely made it through accounts of a brother being made to watch his sister undergo repeated gang rapes.

I learned that one of our passionate and charismatic organizers of protests here in San Francisco was a survivor of the student uprising of ‘99 and lived through imprisonment and terrifying torture himself. I tried to read his accounts. I couldn’t.

I received word from a friend, a recent arrival from Tehran, that her cousin’s friend was detained and raped by so many of these savages that she lost count.

There are more examples I can cite but I think you get the picture.

So how do I feel? What are my views?

Here. Come in. Take a look and see because I am adrift in an endless sea of images that haphazardly come and go and rock me up and down as I flail about, drowning in the tears I shed for Neda as I watch the blood pour out of her chest and every cavity of her frozen face but then shots ring about from up above and whizz sharply past my ears and in an attempt to erase all I see and hear I empty my mind only to watch that space fill immediately with the shrieks, the bloodcurdling shrieks, of the tortured man that disappeared into the trunk of a car and I put my hands up to my face but they are soaked in blood and my heart races and I can barely breathe and as I gasp for air I see the dragged man’s face as he gasped for life whilst being held up against that car in Tehran’s streets, streets that resonated and carried the bloodcurdling shrieks of the wronged 7 year-old’s broken mother towards the crowd that held the dead 10 year-old as blood dripped on their every scream and ALLAH-O AKBAR rang through the night sky in spite of the bullets that still whizzed by as my people were taken away in the dark, in the light of day, it didn’t matter because they were taken away to Evin, to torture and rape and beatings and an endless nightmare that was not my reality and in its very distance made my heart ache even more.

I ache.

I ache so much that I sometimes forget I do.

Some days I cry. I cry so much I cannot function and I can barely care for my children and yet I do but I don’t remember and I wonder if I kissed them enough, if I held them enough, if I love them enough through my tears…

And then I laugh and I cannot connect to the pain and my mind is empty and the break is needed and welcomed, especially by my children, but then guilt sets in because Michael Jackson died and the world got distracted and the world is silent and forgetting and I want to scream and with my shrieks the visions return and the pain and the reality that my safety is not theirs to hold, yet, in Iran take hold of me once more and…

So now I ask, do you really want a history lesson from me? Do you want me to analyze and compare the Green Revolution of ‘09 to the Revolution of ‘79 and theorize that Iran lies in a limbo that shall lead it to a North Korea-like state or, at best, a Chinese way of governance? To coldly analyze the people and their “blind” courage? Do you want me to regurgitate numerous reports that have me hopeful one second and crying in despair the next?

Well, let me tell you what I want. Me… Iranian… wife… lover… friend… mother… daughter… human… flesh that bleeds… heart that beats… tears that burn… soul that aches… you.

Freedom.

… and straight from Iran an unnamed sister said it best. “I see freedom as freedom of choice, as having the opportunity to choose and being aware that choice does exist. I see freedom as being a free thinker, free to take action and free to bring those thoughts and actions together under the condition that they do not take away the rights of others.”

So now please tell me this. Are you watching? Are you listening? How do YOU feel?

- Leila Radan

Why Demonstrations Are So Important

On July 25, 2009, people all over the world will be showing their support for Iranian protesters in numbers never before seen. In protests sponsored by United4Iran, more than 100 cities will be hosting demonstrations simultaneously, spreading a message of human rights throughout the world and sending a message to the Islamic Republic of Iran that we are watching. This is a day for us to show up for civil and human rights, to put our differences aside, and show our solidarity as supporters of the people of Iran.

When we first started demonstrating outside of Iran following the election results in Iran last month, one American friend asked me, “What exactly are you protesting?” From her perspective, she couldn’t imagine what an Iranian who was here in the U.S. would protest. I explained that we were coming out to show our support for the brave people of Iran who were risking so much to stand up to their government and question the elections.

But the truth is, demonstrations for Iranians go even deeper than that. With every disturbing, heart breaking image that comes out if Iran these last few weeks, we are left asking the eternal question, “What more can we do?” Our organizing, printing posters, writing slogans, and coming out in protest is our show of solidarity, yes, but it is also action. It is showing not only the protesters that we are behind them, but it is reminding the world that it isn’t over in Iran. It is away of bringing the media’s attention back to the human rights violations that are rampant in the Islamic Republic of Iran at present.

I remember in the days before 18 Tir as our secular student group had demonstrations that we reported to media outside of Iran, knowing that someone outside the borders of Iran knew about us made us that much stronger. In those days the Internet wasn’t as strong as it is today, and without Facebook, Twitter, and You Tube as tools, we relied on phone calls to radio stations in the U.S. People in Los Angeles knew my voice back then, as a student working to bring democracy to Iran. They heard the panic in our voices as the Islamic Regime stepped up their search for us following the protests of July 1999. They likely thought of us dead men, and they were almost right.

On the day of my capture following 18 Tir, I was on the phone with an LA radio station giving an interview at the moment the Islamic Republic secret police broke down the doors of the apartment where I was seeking refuge. Just as I hung up the phone I heard what sounded like twenty or thirty voices yelling in unison “Allahu Akbar Khamanei rahbar, marg bar zede valayat fagheh.” This was the battle cry meant specifically for us, and literally translated means “In the name of Allah, down with those who oppose the representative of Allah”—the representative referring to Khamanei. The rest is history.

But what I know is that in the months I spent in a cell awaiting the next interrogation, I had hope that those who had heard my voice in the weeks before, knew what was going on in Iran. They were thousands of miles away, but they were thinking of us, holding a thought that we would survive.

When I protest here, whether it’s in the streets of San Francisco, Los Angeles, or London, I know that somewhere, someone in jail is hoping we haven’t forgotten them. To them, I say, we cannot forget. Your sacrifices have been far too great, and your courage is the inspiration that makes us continue. For these reasons we put our differences aside, and we come out in “a global day of action.”

For more information, see http://united4iran.org/.

Setting the Record Straight

What I stand for...
I want freedom for the people of Iran.
I want men and women to have the opportunity to live prosperous lives in my country.
I want every mother and father in Iran to go to sleep at night knowing that their sons and daughters are not spending the last hours of their lives in the torture chambers of Iranian prisons.
I'm weary of seeing another photo of a young Iranian face beside headlines that speak to horrific suffering before death, simply for a desire for freedom.
I want human rights for my country.

I am secular. I do not believe that religion belongs in government.

As a child I discovered the history of Prime Minister Mohammad Mossedeqh, and he has guided all my political beliefs. He understood democracy in its purest state. He wanted freedom for his people, and he devoted his life to this cause. He took no money for his service to his country.

It's more than a week now since the ten year anniversary of 18 Tir. I spent the beginning of the week in Los Angeles, working to organize our members there for a Thursday protest. That night after the demonstration at the Federal Building on Wilshire, I drove back up to the Bay Area to help get ready for the Friday protest there.

The last few weeks have been exhausting for most of us who have been paying attention to the news coming out of Iran. But what has made our work here even more difficult is the back biting and bickering that has become commonplace among many of the activists working in protest of the Islamic Republic of Iran.

The Iranian press in Los Angeles has never been particularly kind to me. When I first arrived in the U.S. I represented a student movement that many of them were leary of. I came to the U.S. believing that I could do more work to help my country from here, then I could have from inside. I was from the student movement that stood up to the government during the protests of 18 Tir. I was one of the leaders of the first openly secular student group in Iran at that time, I spent time in jail as a result of my work, and when I came to the U.S. I had no interest in joining any other group inside or outside of Iran.

That proved problematic in how I was accepted into the Iranian-American Community in Los Angeles. After a brief honeymoon period, they realized that I was independant. I didn't choose sides, but instead stood strong as a representative of the secular, democratic student movement of 18 Tir. I took a stand against the old guard that had been in LA since the 1979 Revolution, and that stand has cost me dearly over the years. I have no regrets for my actions, but since they have published so many stories that spread lies so proposterous that even I have to laugh at them, I wanted to take the opportunity to set the record straight once an for all.

I'm not on the inside when it comes to the groups in LA. Some of my friends from the past have taken sides with the elitests within the community, and it has tainted their politics, in my opinion. I have no regrets for having stayed strong in the simplicity of my own political beliefs, and I welcome others to join me in our own brand of protest against the Islamic Republic that does not seek a return to past, but instead looks to a future that is non-violent, secular, and democratic.

Despite what I have read about myself in the Iranian press from Los Angeles, I do not drive a Mercedes. I live a very simple life as a student who came to this country with nothing. I have always believed that profiting from my work in the student movement would be against my beliefs, and therefore, have rarely had much money with which to do my political work. I've been fortunate to have talented members of the International Alliance of Iranian Students, a group I founded after I left Iran. Our members have volunteered countless hours to posting on our website, writing articles, setting up Facebook groups, sending news feeds via Twitter, designing banners and posters and flyers, showing up at rallies and demonstrations in London, Zurich, Washington D.C., San Francisco, Los Angeles, and many other cities all over the world. They, like me, have done it all for the good of Iran, for the future, and for freedom for our country.

I do believe that most Iranians outside of Iran want something similar for our country, but the fighting between us has to stop. When we put our personal agendas before the good of the people who are still within the Islamic Republic's borders, we miss the point entirely.

We cannot forget the suffering of the political prisoners who remain in Iranian jails. We must remember the face of Neda Agha Soltan in the final moments of her life when she looked at the camera in disbelief as her life slipped away. We must continue to share with the world the images of young Iranians like Sohrab Aarabi, taken from his parents too soon.

I am sickened and saddened by the loss of young lives in Iran. But I believe that we can survive. We must protest, we must use the media available to us, and we must stop fighting among ourselves.

A Decade Later...

18 Tir
a decade later…

In July of 1999 representatives of the Islamic Republic of Iran attacked the dorms of Tehran University in the middle of the night. In the days that followed students rose up in protest in the largest demonstration against the regime in twenty years. Ten years later protesters have again filled the streets of Iran fighting for justice and human rights. Let not their voices be silenced…

Los Angeles
Thursday, July 8, 2009
Los Angeles Federal Building
11000 Wilshire Blvd.
Los Angeles, CA
5:00 p.m. to 9:00 p.m., Pacific

Berkeley
Friday, July 9, 2009
UC Berkeley Campus
@ the corner of Bancroft and Telegraph
Berkeley, CA
5:00 p.m. to 9:00 p.m., Pacific

London
Friday, July 9, 2009
Embassy of the Islamic Republic of Iran
16 Princes Street
London, United Kingdom
5:00 p.m. to 9:00 p.m.

http://www.daneshjooyan.org/ imalon18@gmail.com

or find us on Facebook by searching for International Alliance of Iranian Students

Remembering 18 Tir

For those of us who lived through July 1999 in Iran, these last few weeks have been a mix of hope that the protesters would be strong enough to continue, excitement at watching their courage and strength, and dread at what we knew they faced should they be arrested. Many of us have remembered the days ten years ago that followed the attack by government thugs on the Tehran University dorms.

I was in the dorms that night, and the sounds of the attacks will never completely fade from my mind. They shot and killed Ezzat Ibrahim Nejad during the attacks, and countless others were beaten badly. There has always been an absence of clarity about the true number of casualties that resulted from the attack. Then, just as they do now, the Islamic Republic's accounting of the dead can be deceiving at best.

I promised myself then as I heard the gunshots ringing through the night air and later in the months I spent in Iranian prisons, that if I survived, I'd spend the rest of my life working to make right what the Islamic Republic tried to destroy in the people of my country.

In the days that followed the attacks, students came out into the streets in numbers that hadn't been seen under the rule of the Islamic Republic of Iran. The attacks happened on a Thursday night, and by Sunday night there were some 50,000 students who had taken to the streets of Tehran. They weren't alone. Cities all over Iran burst into protest, just as they have since the fraudulent election results of June 12, 2009.

What 18 Tir represented to Iran was a very important beginning. The government at that time was taken by surprise, and that gave us an advantage. Then, like now, they hunted us down and imprisoned us. They broke our bones, but never did they break our spirits.

Just as students have come out at Tehran University every year since 1999 to remember our movement, this year we remember not only what happened a decade ago, but we come out and remember the protesters who currently languish in Islamic Republic jails, whose loved ones have been beaten and killed, and who have continued night after night to chant from the rooftops in a constant cry for freedom.

This year in cities all over the world supporters of the Iranian people will come out to mark the anniversary of 18 Tir. We gather in protest because we do not want protesters from back then, or now, to think that what they have done has been in vain. We raise our voices so that the world knows that we will not stop.

Mayor to Mayor...

The following is reprinted by permission of the author. Mayor Sepi Richardson of Brisbane, California, wrote the following letter to the Mayor of Tehran, Mohammad Baquer Qalibaf. The significance of this post is that public servants everywhere in the world are in a unique position to show their support from their positions of authority. Mayor Richardson's letter is a great example of a public show of support for the people of Iran. The original letter was published on Payvand Iran News.

July 4, 2009

Honorable Mohammad Baquer Qalibaf
Mayor of Tehran
Office of Tehran Municipality
Behesht Ave
Tehran
Islamic Republic of Iran

Dear Mr. Qalibaf,

My name is Sepi Richardson, Mayor of the City of Brisbane located in the San Francisco Bay Area, California. I have the distinct honor of being the First Persian American Elected Councilwoman and Mayor in the World. I am writing to you as one public servant to another and also as a an Iranian American.

Over the last ten days, I and the citizens of my community along with the citizens of the world have watched the events unfold in Tehran. We have seen protests by Citizens of Tehran and we have seen the harsh response by various elements including Tehran's Police towards these protests leading to loss of life and property.

In his speech, late President John F. Kennedy cited the following powerful quote: "The word crisis, when written in Chinese is composed of two characters, one represents danger and the other represents opportunity''. When w e took office as Mayors of our respective cities, we took an oath to protect our Citizens and their property. I know you are and will be doing whatever in your power to ensure the citizens of your city are protected. This is our opportunity to act and demonstrate our leadership. For Democracy to be truly meaningful, it must be put into practice. I want to express my concerns and those of my constituents for the basic rights of Iranian Citizens.

Mr. Mayor, the world is watching and history will judge us as we serve our sacred offices. I send you my sincere well wishes and prayers in these defining moments.


Sepi Richardson
Mayor
City Of Brisbane
California
United States of America

Where do we go from here?

If there is a single message I could send to those who have faced such brutality by going out into the streets following the fraudulent elections in Iran, it would be to say to them, “You did exactly what we hoped you would do. Only, you did it better.” The young, the old, the women, the men, the people not just in Tehran but in cities all over Iran, they made those of us outside our country feel so much emotion. We have watched the images captured on You Tube of young people making human chains as they faced armed militia, of individuals facing the basiji who attacked with clubs and axes and shot at them from rooftops. If these protesters were afraid, it didn’t show. They continued to move forward. Brave, strong, and voicing their call for freedom louder than I have ever heard it before.

On Facebook and Twitter postings and in countless emails I’ve received over the last three weeks, there is a common theme, and it is of extreme pride. So many posts have simply read, “Today I am proud to be Iranian.” The people who are standing up against the government have no doubt, made us proud.

To be outside the country and to watch the images that are now coming from Iran, the images that are clear indications of the extreme violence being used against our people, there isn’t an Iranian among us who doesn’t feel a sense of helplessness, of duty, of wanting them to know how much we appreciate the huge sacrifice they are making for all of us. Many of us want to return. We have recreated pieces of our culture in places like Los Angeles, Toronto, and London, but there is nothing like home. The only thing that stops us is a theocratic dictatorship that has ruled our country for the last thirty years.

So we do what we know. We protest. We take to the streets to support our brothers and sisters in Iran. We rally, we march, and we give speeches so we do not forget the heavy price our brethren are paying even as I write these words.

As the days have turned into weeks, as the prisons in Iran are filled to capacity and spilling the political prisoners over into football fields, we are left wondering what more we can do to help. We continue to meet, but where do we go from here? How do we best support our fellow Iranians from so far away?

First of all, we have to be strategic in our fight at this point. It is no longer just a matter of showing up with a sign to chant slogans for democracy, though that is certainly still acceptable. But we must take what we know, and build the collective consciousness. We must fight with our intellect, with out voices, with our pens, and with our minds. We must build an awareness in whatever country we have called our second home, so that the citizens of the U.S. or Great Britain, or Canada, or wherever we are, doesn’t put the situation in Iran on page 15 of the daily newspaper. Keeping the media interested and engaged is a challenge. They are looking for the news that sells, and how quickly we've seen the passing of celebrities take the focus away from the fight on the streets of Iran. We have to find ways through networking with the media to keep them focused on the situataion there.

Secondly, we have to unite in our cause. Too often we begin fighting among ourselves. This helps no one, and at the end of the day, we all do really want a version of the same thing for Iran. But we must check out egos at the door as we begin to find ways of supporting our brothers and sisters in Iran.

Third, this is a unique moment in time, because we are approaching the anniversary of 18 Tir—the July 1999 student protests that followed a brutal attack on the dorms at Tehran University. Those protests were, in my mind, and in the minds of many who participated in them, foundational to the current protests. We were the first to question the regime in such a blatant way, and the government wasn’t prepared for us. There were only some 50,000 of us. Many people wanted to come out into the streets with us, but they were afraid. The protesters of June 2009 are far greater in numbers. They are not just students, but they are a cross section of the population. Those who ten years ago might have been afraid to come out, put all their fear aside following the elections of 2009. At the same time, the government was more prepared this time. They had seen protests before, and they had planned for how they would deal with them. At least this time, the government's cruelty is brought to light by technology that sends feeds across the world so that we can see the evidence of their brutality in the broken bodies of the protesters.

The ten year anniversary of 18 Tir presents an opportunity for Iranians everywhere to come out in numbers impossible to ignore. Every year students remember 18 Tir in Iran. This year inside and outside Iran we must remind the Islamic Republic of what we started then, and what has continued until today. We cannot let those who have died at the hands of the Islamic Republic, die in vain.

Finally, there’s no way of knowing how long a fight we are in for. In July of 1999 the protests lasted just five days. The protests of 2009 have gone much longer, but the government has become very adept at dealing with those they believe are against them. The fight from within Iran will need to be fought from many directions, not just with blood, sweat, and tears, but again, with the intellect, and hitting them where it hurts economically as well. By this I don’t mean sanctions that ultimately hurt the people inside, but by boycotting the government from inside.

Most of all, we must believe in our efforts both inside and outside of Iran. We must be persistent, and we must not give up no matter the obstacles we face. We are the sons and daughters of Cyrus, and we are free.

An Open Letter to President Barack Obama

Dear President Obama,

In just a few days we will mark the tenth anniversary of the student uprisings in Iran that cracked the door open for the protests we are seeing today in response to the June 12, 2009, elections in Iran. I was part of that student movement, and was one of the organizers of the protests that followed violent dormitory attacks at Tehran University in July of 1999. I spent several months in Iranian prisons before I was released and fled the country.

Over the last several weeks I have spent many hours meeting with Iranians here in the U.S. and also abroad. I have had phone calls with many others who are still in Iran. The question we have all been asking one another repeatedly is, "Where is Obama Now?"

I followed your campaign and election, and though I'm not a U.S. citizen, as the founder of an international student organization, Global Student Alliance, I endorsed your run for the presidency. What was most appealing to me and many like me, is that you took a stand on human rights. As you must know, human rights in Iran do not exist under the theocratic rule of the last thirty years. This isn't to say that Iran's record prior to the revolution of 1979 was without a need for vast improvement, but nothing can compare to the barbaric treatment of Iran's citizens under the Islamic Republic's rule.

The protesters who are at this very moment disappearing from their homes at an alarming rate, face a terror that is unfathomable. I have lived a version of what they are going through, and I can tell you firsthand that those of us who have been tortured in Iranian prisons will live the rest of our lives with the physical and mental scars we incurred at the hands of our torturers. Those being arrested at this time are being used as examples, and they face the most vicious treatment.

As ugly as it is, I feel as someone who lived through this that I must give you a view of what current prisoners face. It is likely that the capture will include a fairly violent beating before prisoners have been taken into the jail. Next the questioning will begin. Prisoners will be interrogated night and day, and many will lose touch with time, not even knowing how many days have passed.

The torturers will likely use one of their most common torture methods, beating the bottoms of prisoners' feet with some a plastic cord. When I first heard about this sort of torture before I experienced it, I couldn’t imagine that hitting the bottoms of the feet could cause such pain. In reality there are so many nerve ending in the feet that after the first couple of blows, the pain is no longer centralized in the feet but goes all over the body. They will question the prisoners between blows asking for names of others who worked against Islam. They will sit on their backs as they continue beating their feet. After each session they will take the victims outside where they will be forced to jump on their throbbing bloody feet for twenty minutes or more. This is done so that blood comes back into the feet and the healing begins. The torturers believe that as the body begins to regenerate, it ensures that the next beatings will be even more painful than the last.

The torture rooms are often intentionally kept dark and along the top of the walls they will have a large metal pipe that runs the length of the ceiling and is sturdy enough to hold the weight of the prisoner. This was where they practice a torture method called Ghapani. The victim puts one arm over his or her shoulder, reaches around and grabs the other wrist from the waist. The wrists are then secured, either with a rope or handcuffs, and the victim is hung from the ceiling by the wrists. The pain is excruciating. There are no words to describe it.

Between these beatings prisoners will be placed in solitary confinement to await their next interrogation. The cells are usually nothing more than small closets with a single light bulb hanging from the ceiling that burns 24 hours a day. A favorite means of psychological torture is to make prisoners watch the torture sessions of their friends and family. I recall a brother and sister who were in Tohid Prison with me (a prison that has since been closed and made into a museum), and the brother was forced to watch as his sister was repeatedly raped. I was in jail with two close friends, Manouchehr and Akbar Mohammadi. The interrogators would often have us watch each other being tortured. Akbar died in Evin Prison in 2006. In the end, I lost many friends who were seeking non-violence and a secular, democratic Iran, at hands of Iran’s prison system.

As gruesome as the images are that I have just described, I believe a president who believes in protecting human rights must have an understanding of what is at stake, and for this reason I have shared my experiences.

Over the last few weeks I’ve been concerned by your reaction to the happenings in Iran. In all honesty, my sense is that you don’t have very strong advisors on Iran, or that those you do have are part of a political agenda that you may not completely grasp. I mean no disrespect by this, Mr. President, but I ask that you take a look at a few of the actions that in my mind, and in the minds of many Iranians, seems lacking focus or understanding about the current situation in Iran:

1. Letter to Ayatollah Ali Khamenei: Many in the Iranian community were shocked that an American president would send a letter to the Supreme Leader in the weeks preceding the election. While the content of the letter is still unclear, the message it sent to our community was that it didn’t matter who won, the U.S. would work with them. Given the outcome of the elections and the obvious fraud that took place, it would seem that the regime was given a carte blanche go-ahead to do whatever they wanted in the election, and that the U.S. would bless their actions. I hope this wasn’t the actual message, but surely, President Obama, you must admit that this was strategically the wrong message to send to the citizens of Iran who face the basiji thugs in the streets of Iran in the name of freedom and democracy.

2. Invitation of Iranian Diplomats to U.S. Embassy Fourth of July Parties: Several weeks back a cable went out to all U.S. Embassies and Consulates, saying the U.S. diplomats could invite their counterparts from the Islamic Republic of Iran to their Fourth of July celebrations. The invitations have since been retracted—in an of itself an Iranian cultural faux pas that is considered rude at best. The real issue here is, Mr. President, how could anyone have advised you that inviting the Islamic Republic of Iran to a celebration of Independence Day in the U.S. was a good idea? This is a fundamentalist regime that has no respect for human rights or independence of any kind. The message that these invitations sent to the Iranian people is that the U.S. accepts the regime and all its cruelty.

3. U.S. President’s Reaction to Khamenei’s June 19 Declaration: During Friday prayers on June 19, 2009, Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei issued a warning to peaceful protesters that they would not be tolerated. This warning was in truth, a death sentence to protesters. It gave basiji thugs the go-ahead to shoot protesters at will and take prisoners based on little or no evidence. Mr. President, you must have known what this proclamation meant to human rights in Iran, yet your reaction was tepid at best. You issued a statement that you were “very concerned,” while reporters had to literally pull details out of your spokesman, Robert Gibb, who finally conceded that you “condemned the violence” used against protesters.

Mr. President, people are being flung off of bridges, shot with assault rifles from rooftops and beaten with clubs and axes until their bones are broken and they are bleeding in the streets. The injured are being taken from hospitals and put in prisons, and basijisare pulling people from their homes in the middle of the night to be taken in for hours of questioning and torture. Thousands of innocent people who are starved for democracy and freedom are sitting in prisons, unsure of their futures, unsure if they will live another day. They are young, old, male, female, upper, middle and working class, educated, uneducated, and illiterate. They are professors, doctors, bazaaris, and laborers. The cruelty of the regime of the Islamic Republic of Iran cares not at all for their background, but rules with equality when it comes to its barbaric acts against its citizens.

President Obama, please take a moment to consider the following:

1. For the last eight years the U.S. president repeatedly said he supported the people of Iran, but behind that support was an unspoken threat of military violence. He grouped our country as part of the “Axis of Evil” to justify veiled threats that “All options were on the table.” I did not support military action against my country then, and I still don’t today. In July of 2006 I was the first Iranian to organize an anti-war against Iran rally. But three years later, some sort of protection must be offered to the innocent people on the streets of Iran. This is the job of the United Nations, yet Ban Ki-Moon has been no stronger in his call to action than you have. Mr. President, you must push the U.N. on this. It is a human rights issue, and if Ban Ki-Moon is following your lead, it is imperative to remind him of the very charter of the U.N. to promote peace, freedom and "reaffirm faith in fundamental human rights."

2. The U.S. cannot recognize the fraudulent elections of June 12, 2009. Mahmoud Ahmadenejad is not the elected president, and for the U.S. to respond to him as such gives further strength to Khamenei’s dictatorship.

3. Mr. President, you must take this opportunity to evaluate your team of advisors on Iran policy. In this country we literally have the best and brightest academic minds from Iran. These are people who were born in Iran, who have a clear understanding of the complex workings of its political structure, its history, and its cultural nuances. In all due respect, I suspect that among the members of your team you have those with very distinct political agendas when it comes to the outcome of the Islamic Republic’s future in the world. You must take a look and leverage those in this country who are capable of being neutral in respect in religion and past politics. I urge you to surround yourself with some of the great minds you have right here in the U.S. who are qualified to advise you in the best possible way.

In closing, President Obama, I ask from the bottom of my heart that you recognize the blood on the streets of Iran as a problem not for Iran and not for the United Stattes, but as a problem for our humanity. We cannot dance around these issues and when asked to respond chalk them up to not wanting to “meddle” with Iran’s internal processes. We are all watching how you support the Iranian people, Mr. President. Iranians outside and inside Iran watch. Residents of the U.S. watch, and I, Mr. President, as someone who supported your march to the White House, wait and watch to see how you help support democracy and freedom for the people of Iran.

In remembrance of all those who have given their lives for peace, freedom, and democracy, I remain forever grateful,
Reza Mohajerinejad