by REZA KAHLILI
Shariati reinterpreted Islam through the lens of sociology, reviving its original principle of social responsibility. He decried both the stodgy mullahs, who replaced scholarship with cant, and capitalism, which encouraged a human being to be a mere consumer, “an economic animal whose only duty is to graze.” Shariati foresaw a new type of religious leader who modeled himself after Mohammad, one who earned his leadership not by tyrannizing people, but by inspiring the best in them. The Quran proclaims that God and the people are one. Thus, to know God’s will the leader must look to the deepest longings of the people. This radically democratic interpretation of Mohammad’s teachings invigorated me.
The Prophet and the great Imams were transformational figures, said Shariati. They were not conservatives. They were radicals. The essence of Islam was dynamic, vibrant, and revolutionary. Shariati reminded us of the radicalism of Hussein, who stood up against the tyranny of his ruler and was beheaded for it. His final words were “Dignified death is better than humiliating life.” Shariati said that any modern Muslim who accepted injustice was living a humiliating life. He believed that if every Muslim lived by the example of Hussein, injustice on this earth would end.
Shariati practiced what he preached and this led to his expulsion from colleges, the banning of his books, his arrest, and his exile. The monarchy did everything they could to stop him from talking—yet he wouldn’t let up. His words rang so deeply that Iranians like Naser were sending his books and tapes all over the world to those of us living abroad.
I must have read ten Shariati books. Often, I would break down and cry from the power of his writing.
… My Lord, grant me such a life that on my death-bed, I may not be resentful of its worthlessness. And grant me such a death, that I may not mourn for its uselessness. Let me choose that, but in the way that pleases you the most. My Lord, You teach me how to live; I shall learn how to die.
Shariati taught me that I’d allowed the ridiculous mullahs of my youth and the hypocritical leaders of the clergy to disillusion me from the Islamic spiritualism and rectitude my grandmother tried to teach me. While corrupt leaders could bend religion to serve their purposes, the principles of God were always there, in the hearts of good people. I hadn’t allowed myself to embrace religion because I let the wrong people color my opinions. Now Shariati compelled me to dedicate my life to the pursuit of righteousness.
For the first time since I was a boy, I began performing my prayers routinely. I set up a prayer rug in the bedroom of my LA apartment, and while they didn’t completely understand it, Alex and Johnny were respectful of my needs. Shariati’s clarity of thinking reminded me of what was best in the human heart: justice, compassion, mercy, and courage in the face of injustice. I began to believe that Shariati himself was the leader he called for in his writings.
Then, in July 1977, I received another letter from Naser:
Salam, Reza,
I don’t know if you’ve heard the news about Dr. Shariati. After his release from the prison, he was kept under constant surveillance and he left the country for London last month. Reza, I just heard he was murdered in his residence. Damn this injustice. This is yet another killing under the dictatorship of our monarchy. But believe me, his death is only the beginning. He has moved many, and his odyssey will bring changes in our lives.
I’ll be in touch!
Naser
My God, I thought, tears welling in my eyes, Shariati pushed his principles all the way to his own death, just like Imam Hussein.
I soon learned that assassins had killed Dr. Shariati in his daughter’s home. Such cruelty was so dishonorable. I vowed that I would not allow his words to die in my heart, immediately joining the Islamic Students’ Association (ISA) in Los Angeles. The swelling unrest and changes sweeping my country seized our attention. Farzin and Mani, my friends in the ISA, held meetings at their house. We knew that the political tension in Iran was building. People had started to criticize the shah openly. This led to the SAVAK turning Iran into something very close to a police state, which in turn drew the wrath of the international community. When Jimmy Carter became president, he denied U.S. aid to Iran in protest over the shah’s human rights violations. Consequently, the shah, in an effort to show the West he was making progress toward liberalizing his policies, released a few political prisoners.
He also assumed, incorrectly, that these token gestures would stop the protests. But the movement against him was already under way.
Iranians felt ready to sacrifice.
We needed a leader.
4
SHAH RAFT:
THE REVOLUTION
WHEN MY FRIEND Mani at the Islamic Students’ Association called to ask me to come to a meeting in the fall of 1978, he had an almost uncontrollable sense of excitement in his voice. To say the least, this intrigued me. I skipped my evening class and instead jumped in my car and rushed to his house. When I got there, I found a group of young Iranian students listening intently to a man’s voice on a cassette tape. I asked someone what we were listening to and he told me to be quiet before returning his focus to the speech. Realizing that this had to be what had gotten Mani so excited, I listened as well.
“A nation that doesn’t have freedom does not have civilization. A civilized nation is one that is free. …”
Some in the crowd uttered, “Yes.”
“There should be freedom of the press and people should have the right to their opinion. …”
The people in the room grew more excited and I wondered about the man who was speaking. I couldn’t recognize his voice. Had he become an important figure in Iran while I was away? Did Naser and Kazem know about him?
“This shah, this Yazid, this servant of America, this agent of Israel, needs to be overthrown and kicked out of Iran. …”
Many erupted in shouts of approval. I grew more excited myself; I loved what I was hearing. The speaker was incredibly bold, even comparing the shah to Yazid, the ruthless ruler who had ordered the death of Imam Hussein. Iranians view Yazid as one of the most despicable human beings of all time.
“We need an Islamic government, independent of the superpowers, where all Iranians enjoy the wealth and not a specific few. We want to improve not only your material life but also your spiritual life. They have taken our spirituality. We need spirituality. …”
He was speaking for all of us—for Kazem’s people, for Naser’s idealist family, for my spiritual grandmother.
“In our government, clergy will not govern but help you with your spirituality. In our government, women will be free, and officials can be publicly criticized. …”
These were the words of Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini, the man who would change Iran in ways we could only imagine then. He was a stirring speaker, even though he was not a great orator. He spoke plainly and sometimes repetitively. Yet his voice radiated a steadiness of purpose. His appeal was not intellectual. It was primal. Over the next few minutes, I would discover that he had inspired a movement in Iran, one that passed his tapes through the black market all over the world as if he were a rock star.
I had so many questions about him. I sought out Mani and Farzin, who were talking to each other at the corner of their kitchen.
“Glad you made it, Reza,” Mani said.
Farzin beamed with excitement. “What did you think of Ayatollah Khomeini?”
I shook my head in wonder. “I could not believe what I was hearing. He is a true leader. His message of political freedom and equality is stunning. But where has he been?”
Mani told me that the shah first imprisoned the ayatollah in the early sixties because of his strong criticism of the government before exiling him to Najaf, Iraq. The ayatollah had been calling for the fall of the shah ever since. He was now in France after fourteen years in Najaf, and he had begun to talk to reporters from all over the world.
In the ensuing days I learned much more about him. I found an interview he gave to Reuters where he said, “The foundation of our
Islamic government is based on freedom of dialogue and will fight against any kind of censorship…. In Islamic Iran the clergy themselves will not govern but only observe and support the government’s leaders. The government of the country at all levels will be observed, evaluated, and publicly criticized.”
To a German reporter, he said, “Our future society will be a free society, and all the elements of oppression, cruelty, and force will be destroyed. Women are free in the Islamic Republic in the selection of their activities and their future and their clothing. …
“I don’t want to have the power or the government in my hand,” he told The Guardian. “I am not interested in personal power.”
His speeches and interviews gained traction. Soon it seemed as though everyone associated with Iran in any way was talking about him. I started to write Kazem and Naser a letter about him, but before I could complete it, one arrived from Kazem. As always, Kazem started his letter with, “In the name of God.”
Salam, Reza jon,
I hope my letter reaches you in good health and happiness. I am sure the power of our spiritual leader has reached to that side of the world too. There is a lot happening here. We are close to a free Islamic society. Thousands of people are demonstrating throughout Iran. People are burning the flag and the shah’s pictures in the streets. Reza, I wish you were here. Naser and I have joined the uprising against the shah. Ayatollah Khomeini is the leader we need. We receive his manifestos and people in all parts of our nation, rich or poor, religious or atheist, man or woman, young or old, are sharing a common voice. It is time for the shah to step down. I will keep you posted. Meanwhile, don’t just sit there, man. Join this holy movement.
Kazem
Even though most Iranians had enjoyed varying degrees of success under the shah, Khomeini’s message resonated with a population weary of oppression and desperate for the political choice they felt the shah denied them. They believed Ayatollah Khomeini could make us not only prosperous, but also free. I heard more from both Kazem and Naser. They seemed thrilled about what was happening in our country and I looked forward to returning home as soon as possible.
The rising tide crested on January 16, 1979, when the shah left the country along with his wife and children. The state-controlled media reported that he was leaving to seek cancer treatment in Egypt, but, in fact, his army was in mutiny and his citizens were rioting. Iran was no longer safe for him and his family.
We gathered at Farzin and Mani’s house to see the news on television, watching with unrestrained joy as the shah’s departing jet rose into the sky. Mohammad Reza Shah Pahlavi, the leader of Iran since 1941, had abandoned the country he had inherited from twenty-five hundred years of Persian monarchy. The television showed us hundreds of thousands of Iranians surging through the streets carrying Ayatollah Khomeini’s picture and yelling: “Shah raft!” The shah is gone! Cars drove through the streets of Iran with headlights on, horns blaring. In LA we loudly echoed this sentiment. I’d never witnessed such a passionate celebration, and I wished I could have been there with my fellow citizens.
Two weeks after the shah left, Ayatollah Khomeini took a French plane back to Iran. Watching from America, I imagined what it must be like for this seventy-eight-year-old man to step on his home soil triumphantly after fourteen years of forced exile. Millions of people gathered at Mehrabad Airport in Tehran to welcome him and to show their love and support.
After circling the airport for more than twenty minutes for security purposes, the ayatollah’s plane landed. I watched as Khomeini approached the microphone after a fanfare of welcoming songs and introductory speeches.
“We have to thank all classes of people of this nation. For this victory up to now has been due to the unity of voice, the unity of voice of all Muslims, the unity of all religious minorities, unity of scholars and students, unity of clergies and all political factions. We must all understand this secret: that the unity of voice is the cause for success and we must not lose this secret to success and, God forbid, not allow the devils to cause dissent among your ranks. I thank all of you and pray for your health and glory and ask Allah to cut off the hands of foreigners and their cohorts.”
With that, he left the microphone to greet the millions who had come to declare themselves to him.
Khomeini promised the nation that no one would ever have to pay for such public utilities as electricity, water, telephone, and other services. He promised political freedom. The clergy would only improve the spiritual life of the people and would not interfere with the government. He also said that the people’s share of oil money would be delivered to their doorsteps. In his first major speech to a huge crowd in Tehran, he criticized the shah for his oppression, invited all Iranians to join the revolution, and promised a government run by the people and for the people.
Who could believe that any man could bring about the fall of the shah, king of kings? This unknown cleric had toppled the Persian kingdom simply by speaking to the people, as the Prophet Mohammad had. He vowed to kick the U.S.A. out of Iran, calling it “the Great Satan.” The man was afraid of nothing. Many truly believed God was on his side. And so, apparently, did he.
While we continued our support of the revolution at the ISA, some Iranians still loyal to the shah gathered on the streets of LA and other major cities in America to protest the rise of Khomeini and to demand the return of the shah. To oppose this, we marched down the streets of the city carrying posters of Khomeini and shouting, with fists in the air, “God is great! Khomeini is our leader!”
Inevitably, the two forces met. During one of our demonstrations, we ran into a crowd of Shah supporters furious that we were backing the ayatollah. “We are Persians with so much pride and dignity,” said a middle-aged woman carrying an Iranian flag in one hand and a picture of Mohammad Reza Shah in the other. “We don’t need a mullah to rule our country. He will destroy our kingdom and its dynasty. Did you hear what Khomeini said when an American reporter asked how he felt going back home? Hichi! He said he felt nothing.” She shook her head. “How could you have no feeling for your country?” She turned her back to our crowd and waved her flag. “Dorood bar shah. Long live Shahanshah. Down with Khomeini.”
Inside Iran, the grassroots movement forming behind Khomeini was so powerful that shah loyalists declared martial law. Thousands of Iranians galvanized by Khomeini’s return demonstrated anyway, and soldiers opened fire on them. Citizens took up arms, rampaged on military bases, broke open the armories, and passed out military armaments to the people. A week after Khomeini’s arrival in Iran, Kazem and Naser called me together. It was the first time they’d ever done that.
“We were at the Eshrat Abad Garrison today,” Kazem said. “We forced them to surrender.”
Then Naser jumped in. “We each got our J-three machine guns, Reza.”
They were shouting, laughing, and talking at the same time. They had so much energy that I could barely understand them. “Wait, wait, guys. What’s going on? One at a time.”
Kazem explained that they were among the demonstrators attacking the garrisons around the city of Tehran. They forced the shah’s soldiers out to the street and disarmed them. Meanwhile, others entered the facilities and took away the soldiers’ weapons.
“The victory is upon us, Reza,” Kazem said.
This had been a risky operation, but they were triumphant. I could not believe that my friends were among those willing to sacrifice their lives for a free Iran. I was proud of both of them. Naser, a secularist intellectual, and Kazem, a religious devotee, were acting as brothers in a common fight. They were representative of all of Iran for that brief, shining moment—in perfect agreement and acting as one. Every faction and ideology—religious, liberal, secularist, Marxist, or Communist—had rallied under Khomeini’s banner. Within a couple of months, the provisional government held a national referendum. The question: Islamic Republic, yes or no? The lack of other options caused some to raise their eyebrows, but in the heady aftermath
of Khomeini’s return, 98 percent voted yes.
On April 1, Ayatollah Khomeini declared an Islamic Republic that reflected strong, traditional Islamist values. As a concession to liberal powers in the country, Khomeini appointed Mehdi Bazargan as the first prime minister of the Islamic Republic of Iran to show that he was upholding his promise to keep his clergymen away from positions of political power. Bazargan was the head of the Liberation Movement of Iran. Ali Shariati had been among its founders, and the party dedicated itself to gaining freedom, independence, and democracy for the Iranian nation based on a modern interpretation of Islamic principles. The shah’s regime had jailed Bazargan many times, but he and his party maintained a code of civil disobedience and moderation. In fact, Bazargan had objected to calling Iran the “Islamic Republic” and wanted to call it the “Islamic Democratic Republic.” We had every reason to believe he would rule fairly and evenhandedly.
I couldn’t wait to get home, and in June of that year I did. At age twenty-five, I had a master’s degree in systems engineering and I was eager to lend my expertise to the revolution. My mother, still mourning the death of my father three years earlier, had moved into a condominium in a high-rise and I chose to live there with her.
The day after my return, Naser picked me up in the red Impala convertible we used to drive without his father’s knowledge. Since Naser was using it all of the time anyway, Davood finally just gave it to him. His brother, Soheil, and his sister, Parvaneh, were in the backseat.
“We’re going to pick up Kazem and then we’re going to get ice cream for us and crème caramel for Parvaneh, since that’s her favorite. We’re celebrating.”