Windows of the Soul—A Great Book

My dear friend, Alexandra Avakian has been a National Geographic photographer for years. She has dodged bullets to get photos, as well as riding UN vehicles into dangerous regions in order to get where the action is. At one point, while photographing refugees rushing onto an evacuation ship, she was knocked overboard, all in the name of “getting that shot.” Alex’s book, Windows to the Soul: My Journeys in the Muslim World was included on Oprah’s “Season’s Best Gift Books” list.  If you’re looking for a book with some outstanding photos, this would be a great one for you. Or if you just want to browse through some photos that are at times, poignant, at times, disturbing, go to the National Geo blog for this book. To the right side of the blog, you can click on “See more images from this book.” Enjoy!

 

What is the Holy Day of Ashoura, and What Does it Have to Do With the December 27 Killings?

The fact that Iran’s recent riots took place on the Holy Day of Ashoura is extremely significant. This is a day on which Shi’a Muslims commemorate a centuries-old historical tragedy that continues to have political implications today.

Shortly after the 632 death of the Prophet Muhammad, a crisis of succession arose within the early community of Muslims. Some people believed that religious leadership should remain within the line of the Prophet’s descendents, specifically the line that flowed from the union of the Prophet’s daughter, Fatimah, and her husband Ali who was not only the Prophet’s son-in-law, but his cousin as well. These people became the Shi’a teh Ali, “Partisans of Ali,” or what we call the “Shi’a” today. Other early Muslims felt that the Caliphs -- the religious and political leaders of the Muslim community -- should be selected through a traditional political process. They became the Sunni branch of Islam and comprise about 85% or more of today’s Muslims .

As centuries passed, the Shi’a, especially those in Iran and Iraq, developed a system called the “Imamate.” These "Imams" were considered to have extraordinary (even esoteric/mystical) religious understanding due to the fact that they could trace their lineage to the Prophet Muhammad. (By the way, this also explains why Ayatollah Khomeini, leader of the 1979 Islamic Revolution against the Pahlavi regime, held such power over the Iranians; he was considered by many to be an Imam with special religious knowledge that went beyond that of the other religious leaders.)

In the year 680, this conflict over the Prophet's succession led to a tragedy in the desert of Karbala, in present day Iraq. Hossein, son of Ali and Fatimah, grandson of the Prophet Muhammad was slaughtered, along with a small band of followers, by the army of Yazid, Caliph of Damascus. Dramatic stories abound of the bravery of this group of men, women, and children, as well as the brutality of their attackers who are said to have shot an arrow through the neck of Hossein’s infant son when he was begging for water for the children who were dying of thirst. Eventually the heads of the Shi’a “martrys,” including that of Hossein, were delivered to Yazid in his palace. Yazid was immediately condemned as an impious, vicious oppressor.

When I lived in Iran during the 1978-79 Islamic Revolution, I saw how this Battle of Karbala served as a rallying point for the movement against the “New Yazid,” as the Shah, Muhammad Reza Pahlavi was called. Passion plays called “Ta’ziyeh” were presented throughout Iran during the Week of Ashura. During performances, long narratives were recited, calling people to lay down their lives for the sake of justice, piety, courage, and sacrifice. I went to a village Ta’ziyeh, conveniently covered myself in a black chador, and observed the re-enactment of killings, pleas for mercy, and funeral rites for those who had died centuries ago, but still, in the 20th century, continued to serve as inspiration for political and religious action in the name of Divine Justice.

Ironically, those same mullahs who encouraged the use of the Holy Day of Ashura as a rallying cry against the Shah are now listening to identical calls for justice from people on the streets. Protesters are using that exact same religious observance to protest the killings, executions and oppression by the current regime.

Sadly, the 35-year-old nephew of Mir Hossein Mousavi, the opposition leader who claims to have won the June presidential election, was one of the eight people killed in the December 27th riots at Tehran's Enghelab (Revolution) Square on the recent Day of Ashura.

Seems like the events I cover in my novel manuscript are playing out again. I see new actors, but the dialogue and the setting are the same. I guess we'll have to wait to see what the final act will look like.

Click here to see a video of a song that commemorates Fatimah, daughter of the Prophet Muhammad, wife of “Imam” Ali, mother of two Shi’a Imams, Hossein and Hassan. What you’re seeing is Iranian men beating their chests in sorrow, as they follow the song that relates the losses suffered by Fatimah.

Video of Iranian "Passion Play"

With the recent killings in Iran on the Holy Day of Ashura, the Iranian government has ironically flamed the passions of the very same religious observance that Islamic revolutionaries used in their 1970's attacks on the Pahlavi Dynasty. When writing my novel manuscript, I turned to YouTube videos of these plays for inspiration. I have Sarah, the protagonist, attending several evenings of Ta'ziyah, or passion plays, toward the end of the novel, a point at which the Pahlavi Dynasty is reaching the end of its reign. I also drew upon my own observations--as the Shah's government became more threatened by the power of the religious authorities under the direction of Ayatollah Khomeini, the response to protests became more brutal, and the passion of the religious ceremonies became more intense. Below is a great video that shows how even the most amateurish productions (which I preferred to the slick, professional shows) can draw tears from the driest of eyes.

Dessert at the Yurt

For years, the Muslims of Abiquiu, New Mexico have prayed and celebrated Islamic holidays in a Yurt.

These photos show the yurt from a distance, and some interior shots. The three little girls were sitting on the bench outside, waiting for food, food, food, one of the most popular aspects of any holiday gathering.

'Eid al-Adha, the end of the Hajj

The holiday season is upon us, with Thanksgiving, 'Eid al Adah, Christmas, and the New Year. Blessings to all. Here is a link to some beautiful photos at "The Guardian" newspaper. I just couldn't believe this photo of the blond men at an Indonesian prayer.

Here in Abiquiu, we had a quiet prayer at the Dar al Islam mosque, slaughtered a lamb as did Muslims around the world, and enjoyed a beautiful autumn day with our friends and family.

Ramadan 2009: My Stomach is Not a Morning Person

A time of quiet. A time of reflection. And for those of us who don’t usually eat a big breakfast, a time for 14-hour stomach aches. But always peaceful. May God bring more peace to this world, less strife, less hubris, more grace. And of course, for all the world when they break the fast each evening, a good cup of tea.

Return to Iran: Journal Entry: Aug. 4, 2004: Sipping Away at the "Praise God Tea Shop"

When things go wrong, when you’re down, when you need a soothing drink, Iranians don’t open a beer bottle; they turn to the ultimate healer, tea. This is a picture of teachers who joined me for a 2004 tour of Iran. In the background is Isfahan’s famous plaza. Behind us on the right, you can see Ali Qapoo Palace from where kings used to watch polo games on the square. On the right is Shayk Lutfallah Mosque and in the center background is the world-famous Jum’a Mosque. But what was really fun was the teashop. The steps to the second-story patio are killers! Below is my journal entry for that day.

Had dinner at the restaurant with the multi-colored fountain again. The owner recognized me from last year. His prayer room is gone, but he’s building a small mosque right next to the restaurant. Afterward, went to the Praise God Teashop that overlooks the square. The steps are extremely (!) steep, and the stairway twists. You have to pull yourself up by the railing. Painted on the wall next to each step is one green letter: A-l-h-a-m-d-u-l-l-i-l-a-h! “Praise God!” Which is exactly how I felt when I reached the top. Whenever someone makes it to the top, the customers in the restaurant raise their glasses and cheer. Sense of humor is great here. Now, if we can just get back down again.

[Click on the above link to “Isfahan’s famous plaza” to get to Flikr. If you click on “ISFAHAN” to the right, you’ll have access to 192 stunning photos of a stunning city!]

Did my kid draw that?

This is a picture that my son, Jason, drew when we lived in Iran during the Islamic Revolution of 1978-79. He was eight the time. Seems like the picture was drawn quickly. If you look closely, you’ll see that Jason drew himself into the scene. He’s peeking out a window. I recall putting laundry in his drawer, and coming across several pictures like this. (Now I’m paying close attention to what’s happening between the “Red Shirts” and the “Yellow Shirts” in Bangkok, where Jason lives with his wife and two children.) Enough to give a mother nightmares, but such is life.

Letter to Home: Tanks at every corner, August 14, 1978

I shot this photo of a boy playing amongst sandbags in Isfahan. Solders had set up checkpoints and mini-battle stations at street corners. The letter to home that you see below mentions conditions that look eerily similar to what we’ve seen in the media following the recent presidential elections in Iran.

Greetings,

I just want to write, first of all, to let you know we’re okay. I don’t know how much of this chaos is being mentioned by the very “selective” US news media, but riots have broken out in Isfahan and marital law has been declared. There are tanks and armed guards at every corner or major intersection of the city. Banks have been burned, as well as nightclubs and hotels—banks because they’re owned by you-know-who (note: the Shah) and cinemas, nightclubs, etc, because they’re “immoral.”

An 8:00 pm till 6:00 am curfew has been enacted in Isfahan. Anyone out after 8:00 is either arrested or shot. Oddly enough, the reaction among the people is that they’re cooking huge meals and having picnics in their back yards, (which are all walled in, incidentally.) Each night you hear people singing, or watching t.v. or just goofing around. The curfew will last for one month, the reason being that this is the month of Ramadan, or religious fasting. During any religious observance, the natives get restless. But we’re just hanging around the house and reading, etc. We’re avoiding the mosques and bazaars because they are the center of the dissident movements.

Note: the first person to be shot in our neighborhood, the Jolfa section of Isfahan, was a sixteen-year-old boy who seemed to have simply forgotten about the curfew. The singing and relaxation didn’t last for long. Indeed, the biggest anti-Shah, pro-Khomeini march involved hundreds of thousands, and took place on the ‘Eid, the day that culminates Ramadan with prayers and a feast. While that march was peaceful, it served to raise the resistance to the Shah up another notch and set the revolution on a path of no return. By that time, people were ready to openly defy the injunction against marches, and risk their lives for political change. (Deja Vu anyone?)

About the reference to “you know who”: Making openly anti-Shah comments was risky, to say the least. Keep in mind that he was our ally, and had been reinstated to power by the CIA’s Operation Ajax after being ousted in 1953, so the American media was, at first, reluctant to admit that “our guy in the Middle East” was spinning out of control and using his army to gun down opposition to his rule.

Back from Taos Master Novel Workshop

Wow, what a week! I’m home again and, as expected, it’s time to revise. Interestingly, the novel character whom my fellow participants liked the most was Rustam, the evil, yet tormented, SAVAK agent whose job is to ferret out anti-Shah, pro-Islamic revolutionary cells. The problem is that his own son, Darius, is in one of those cells. So as he’s trying to find “The Lions of the Revolution,” he’s also trying to make sure the other SAVAK agents don’t find them. In the meantime, Sarah, the American grad student is trying to write her thesis on the revolution without getting caught. Bubbling up in the background is, Ashura, a major religious holy day, and things are getting dicey.

Revision advice? More of Rustam, and more of Kayvan, a rather shallow jerk who spouts revolutionary slogans without a whole lot of conviction.

“Morning Joe”: Great commentary on the Middle East

Feeling like the situation in Iran has faded to the backwaters of the media? Connect to Morning Joe, for some lively commentary. Particularly interesting is the discussion with former National Security Advisor, Zbignew Brzezinski:  “There are Two Irans.” His analysis is well-informed, interesting, and sure to be thought provoking. Little did I know this guy was so cool. Keep up with this website as these folks keep up with the world. And while I’m at it, check out The Iranian to see many-sided debates in which the Iranians themselves are participating. My daughter, Sepi, has attended numerous protests, but the one in Washington, DC this week-end was by far the largest in the U.S. “The Iranian” always has great photos to browse if you’re interested in seeing how people are maintaining the momentum of protest during this difficult time.

Off to Taos Writers’ Workshop

I’m headed to Taos, New Mexico for a week-long Master Novel Workshop. There are only six participants, so I’m looking forward to the intensive focus on my novel manuscript, “In the Shadow of the Tombs.” I also look forward to working with a great novelist, and, as I’ve heard, a great teacher, Mr. John Dufresne. Time for mountain vistas, rivers, pueblos, and chili ristras. Oh, sounds like my home town of Abiquiu. There’s no place like home, Dorothy.

Letter to Home: We’ve arrived, August 9, 1978

This is my son, Jason, whom I took to Iran when he was eight. He is my model for the character of “Jacob” in my novel manuscript, “In the Shadow of the Tombs.” Jason has a real gift for picking up languages, which comes out in my letter, excerpted below. He’s a teacher in Bangkok now, and acted in a movie in which he spoke only Thai. (Played the part of a dumb foreigner, and had a blast with the humor.)

Mom and Dad,

We couldn’t get tickets to Isfahan for three days, so we had a very pleasant stay at the home of Ali’s uncle and aunt. We took Jason on a tour of Tehran. Saw the Peacock Throne, made of diamonds, rubies, emeralds, and gold. Saw a palace and a museum with objects that date back to 2500 BC. Jason seems to like this place a lot. (We even found a restaurant with pizza here.) He met a five-year-old boy in Tehran and had supper at his house, which is next to the home of Ali’s uncle. He also has a friend here in Isfahan.We’re staying at Ali’s mom’s house, and the cook has a ten-year-old boy. He and Jase have played soccer every day. The boy’s name is Hodabaksh, which means Gift from God. He speaks absolutely no English and they play together well. We took them to the bazaar and bought Jason a notebook because he wanted to write down all the words he knows in Farsi. He has filled up eight pages already. We’re taking Jason to his school tomorrow to enroll him.

Note: Unfortunately, when we picked him up after his first day at school, he was unusually quiet. The only information we got out of him was what game the kids played at recess: “Kick the Horejee,” he replied. Kick the Foreigner. Shortly afterward, that stopped and Jason made some great friends, but we lost contact with them once we returned to the US.

Low tech Iranian Revolution of 1979: My "All Points Bulletin" #2

I found this APB the other day, dated February 14, 1979. What a Valentine's Day message this was: (I was not one of the evacuees, hence, I have a bunch of other "totally groovy" documents to share with you as I develop Blogistan. Grab a cup of tea and follow me to 1979. **Be sure to look at the "what we didn't know" comment at the bottom!)

URGENT. THIS JUST IN.

IT'S BEEN LEARNED THAT THE CARTER ADMINISTRATION PLANS TO RESUME MASS EVACUATIONS OF AMERICANS FROM IRAN THIS WEEKEND.

THE ULTIMATE GOAL IS TO AIRLIFT FIVE-THOUSAND AMERICANS FROM THAT COUNTRY.

U-S OFFICIALS SAY THAT ONE-THOUSAND-700 OF THE NEARLY SEVEN-THOUSAND AMERICANS CURRENTLY IN IRAN ARE PREPARED TO PULL OUT.

THE TEHRAN AIRPORT HAS BEEN KEPT SHUT BY THE NEW KHOMEINI (HOH-MAY-NEE) REGIME AS IT TRIES TO SOLIDIFY ITS CONTROL. BUT THE AIRPORT IS EXPECTED TO BE REOPENED SATURDAY AFTER OBSERVANCES OF RELIGIOUS HOLIDAYS.

02:04PE8 02-14-79

APB 263
201

What we didn't know: 200 armed militants, mostly students, had stormed the U.S. embassy in Tehran that day, and taken Ambassador William Sullivan hostage. (This was a precursor to the November 4, 1979 hostage crisis that lasted 144 days.) The February 14 takeover of the embassy lasted only two hours because Ayatollah Khomeini sent some of his own men to put an end to the chaos. During the attack, 1 embassy employee was killed and 5 were wounded. Meanwhile, on that very same day, Adolph Dubs, U.S. Ambassador to Afghanistan, was kidnapped and shot to death during the raid that was meant to save him.

[U.S. Marine Sergeant Stewart D. Hill was at the Tehran embassy gate during the attack and has a great story on his website!]

Letter to Home: Listening to gunshots, October 28, 1978

While going through the stack of 1978 letters I sent from Iran to my family in Ohio, I can’t help but notice how loudly the echo of the past is thundering through Iran today. [The photo below was taken during an anti-Shah march my (ex) husband, Ali, and I attended in Isfahan.] I hope this letter below will give you an idea of what it’s like to live on a daily basis under an oppressive regime. (Any oppressive regime.) Ps- that statue mentioned below sure didn’t last long! You can’t stop a bunch of determined students. In the end, they will win.

Greetings,

Well, the post office is threatening to go on strike again, so I’d better get this in the mail in case they carry out their threat. We lay in bed Wednesday night and listened to the sounds of people getting shot. Rather nerve wracking, if I do say so myself. There were riots all over Iran that day and night. We heard horns honking, guns shooting, sirens of ambulances, tanks moving in, and the people yelling. It sounded distant, yet it was close enough that we were able to count the gunshots.

Also, our department at the university has finally been the object of some red paint and political slogans that were written all over the interior walls. The students showed up the other day and demanded that we give them the photos of the Shah and the Empress that must hang in all university offices. It seems that they are burning the photos on the campus.

The government is building a brick wall around the statue of the Shah that is in front of this building, so nothing happens to it.

Letter to Home: Knives at our throats, Dec. 17, 1978

I sent the letter below to my sister, who has the unfortunate nickname of “Bean,” in December, 1978 during the Islamic Revolution that eventually overthrew the imperial reign of Muhammad Reza Pahlavi, and ushered in the current regime. What I didn’t tell my family is that supporters of Ayatollah Khomeini jumped on the bandwagon as well. This meant that my (ex)husband, Ali, and I had to keep two photos in the glove compartment—one of the Shah, one of Khomeini. While Ali drove through the city, my job was to gauge the mob ahead, mostly by noting the number of uniforms versus the number of beards, and switch photos in the window. I’m still here, so I guess I figured it out pretty quickly.

As tension escalates in Iran today, I pray that the violence will stop and people will no longer be victimized for their political views.

Greetings Bean, Well, how are things going for you? I haven’t gotten a letter from you or mom or Becky for about a week, but this last week has been an unbelievable mess, so I suppose the post office is closed again. The people tore down a statue of the Shah on Tuesday, and on Wednesday, the soldiers ordered all cars to have a picture of the Shah in their windows, or they’ll start shooting. They also had people marching at gunpoint, who were forced to say “Long Live the Shah.” Then the soldiers started stopping cars and holding a knife to the throat of the drivers and forcing them to say "Long Live the Shah.” The city was an absolute zoo! Ali and his mom went to a doctor, and on the way there, a guy in the car in front of them was dragged out and beaten. If that other car hadn’t been there, it would have been Ali who was dragged out of his car.

Low tech Iranian revolution of 1979: My "All Points Bulletin" # 1

It’s fascinating to see how Twitter, e-mail, and YouTube have enabled Iranians to broadcast their situation across the world. I can’t help but compare it to the 1978-79 Islamic Revolution throughout which I remained in Isfahan. Below is the content of an All Points Bulletin sent to me by the U.S. government. With no electronic communications available, (“lap tops?” “ e-mail?” huh?) people communicated by telegraph, snail mail, or phone, all of which went on strike the moment Ayatollah Khomeini told them to. So…below is the text of the APB that Americans received on January 2nd, 1979. I tried to scan it, but it comes out too light to read. (Guess I should mention that I did not evacuate, though Assistant Secretary of State Hodding Carter phoned and tried to get me to leave. I remained in the country until June, which means I witnessed the return of Ayatollah Khomeini as well.)

APB259 –210 13TH SUMMARY-TAKE 2

(TEHRAN)—HUNDREDS OF AMERICANS AND OTHER FOREIGNERS FLEW OUT OF STRIFE-TORN IRAN TODAY. THEY WERE ABLE TO LEAVE AFTER IRANIAN SOLDIERS REPLACED STRIKING CONTROL TOWER WORKERS AND REOPENED TEHRAN’S INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT FOLLOWING A ONE-DAY SHUTDOWN.

IN WASHINGTON, THE STATE DEPARTMENT SAID ABOUT FOUR-THOUSAND-200 AMERICANS WANT TO LEAVE IRAN OUT OF TOTAL OF 35-THOUSAND. THE PENTAGON SAID U-S AIR FORCE JETS FLEW 295 MILITARY DEPENDENTS OUT OF IRAN TODAY. A PAN AM JUMBO JET CARRYING NEARLY 400 PASSENGERS LANDED IN ISTANBUL. BRITISH AIRWAYS, LUFTHANSA AND OTHER AIRLINES ALSO FLEW FOREIGN NATIONALS OUT OF IRAN.

--DAHS--

SUMMARY BY JAMES RUSSELL PETERSON

04:02PES 01-02-79

The Wisdom of Silence

I can't stand it any more. After convincing myself that I should stay out of the mountain of commentary on the current situation in Iran, I couldn't do it once I saw Ruben Navarrette Jr. jump on the bandwagon of people criticizing Barack Obama for not "speaking out" on the Iranian election. I can't help but wonder when Navarrette last read a history book. (Can you tell I'm a teacher? Jump back folks, I think a couple of flames just blew out of my ears.) Navarrette even references the Roosevelts, when it was one of their very own who got the U.S. into such a mess with Iran in the first place, by doing just what Navarrette is suggesting: meddling! Kermit Roosevelt led the 1953 CIA coup (Operation Ajax) that replaced an elected Prime Minister with a Shah who did a lot of good for the country, but also became a brutal dictator. That CIA coup, and the anti-American sentiment it planted in Iran, led straight to the 1978-79 Islamic Revolution that ousted the Shah and brought the mullahs to power. The slightest hint that the U.S. (the "Great Satan) is behind Moussavi would destroy any chance that man has of rising to power. Thank God Barack Obama understands the wisdom of silence. (Better than I do, apparently.) Now if Navarrette would only tape his mouth shut, maybe we could let the Iranians take care of their own problems without burdening them with that arrogant attitude that they need our "help." They've had enough of that already!

Yazd, Iran: 2003

Lucky me! I found the best souvenir shop in “all of the world.”

Return to Iran: Journal Entry: Ramsar, Oct. 11, 2003 “Can’t a Girl Get Any Sleep Around Here?”

Ramsar, Oct. 11, 2003: Not a particularly pretty town at first. Crowded. A bit dirty. Then you get to the Caspian Sea, and the greenery is stunning. We’re staying at the Ramsar Hotel right next to the Caspian Sea. Opulent. Marble stairway at curve of the driveway. Large statues at the base. Inside the lobby are antique chairs that look like they belong in a museum. (In fact, some have red tape to keep us from sitting on them.) The building reminds me very much of the interior of the White House. I mentioned this to a staff member and he told me that the building was designed by a British architect and indeed, the style is quite similar to the White House. This was the summer resort of the last Shah, Mohammad Reza Pahlavi. We’re sleeping in rooms that formerly housed foreign dignitaries and the royal family.

There’s a wedding taking place outside my hotel window. This is considered an auspicious day: the eve of the Mawlid (birthday) of the 12th Shi’a Imam, Vali Asr. The wedding is nothing like the Iranian weddings I’ve attended in Washington (disco music, rivers of alcohol, etc.) This one is subdued by comparison, yet there’s lots of talk and laughter, people milling around a well-manicured garden. Elegant dresses swoosh across the marble walkway, and scarves sit gently atop perfectly-coiffed hair. Some of the make-up jobs verge on a Tammy-Faye-Baker look. Kids are playing well beyond midnight. (Can’t a girl get any sleep around here?) I don’t mind. The music is soothing. I’m curled up in bed and listening to traditional Persian love songs accompanied by violin and piano. The man’s voice is gorgeous. If I concentrate, I can understand enough of the lyrics to know that these songs depart from the usual Iranian love songs. Good thing too, considering that this is a wedding! From what I can tell, most Persian love songs go something like this: “I love you. You’re leaving me. I’m going to die.”

My room can only be described as “Shabbily elegant.” Wow! What a metaphor for the fallen Pahlavi dynasty. The lampshades are “Empire”style, even the ones that sit on the chandelier. The shades are a faded yellow, looking as though they were once white. Each has a gaudy fringe at the bottom, and two of the five in the chandelier have a black blob where they once burned too hot. Every lamp shade has at least one small rip in it, including the shades on the two wall sconces.

The carpet is a stained olive green. Even the ceiling is olive green; there’s a medallion in the center, from where the chandelier hangs. The wallpaper is Rococo, embossed with a medallion and ribbon design. The AC works, but only after I had someone on the staff come “fix” it. He kicked it, punched a knob on the wall, and voila, AC.

This is only the second hotel we've stayed in that has a photo of President Khatami in the lobby. Others have had two photos: one of Ayatollah Khomeini, the other of Ali Khamenei, Iran’s “Supreme Leader.” It seems as though the reformist president, Mohammad Khatami, is being pushed aside by the hardliners. The writing is on the wall, literally.

On television tonight: Shirin Ebadi accepting the Nobel Peace Prize. I was surprised to see the event broadcast everywhere we went—in restaurants, the hotel lobby, tea shops. People were glued to the tube.