The new government should prepare the ground for an early free and fair democratic election under UN supervision to restore true sovereignty to the people’s representatives.
I certainly hope that Dr al-Abadi will take rapid steps towards implementing these measures to fulfil the wishes of all the people of Iraq. This way, he will enjoy the full support of the world community and particularly the EU. He now has in his hands the historic role of saving Iraq, or presiding over its total disintegration.
42
Interviews with PMOI Refugees in Camp Liberty, September 2014
Bahar Abehesht
My name is Bahar Abehesht. I was born in Tehran on 14 March 1982. I was a math major in high school and from early childhood studied and competed in martial arts. Upon joining the PMOI and after the US attack on Iraq, which led to voluntary disarmament of the NLA, I continued my education online in the field of computer programming and software.
I came to know the PMOI from the time I was very young. My Mum and Dad were both members of the PMOI. When Khomeini returned to Iran and the suppression of the PMOI began, both my parents were forced to go into hiding. In 1982 when my Mum was pregnant, my Dad was arrested by the Revolutionary Guards in northern Iran in one of the PMOI’s bases. He was tortured severely, and after he had refused to repent he was executed. He never saw me. When my Mum went to hospital to give birth to me, the hospital was surrounded by Revolutionary Guards looking for PMOI members and supporters. One of the doctors was a member of the Fedayeen guerrillas and knew my Mum was with the PMOI; he transferred her to a special ward at the hospital to be safe from the Guards. Immediately after she gave birth she was put in a car and discreetly transferred out of the hospital to a safe house on Majidieh Street.
After a few hours the Revolutionary Guards had entered the hospital and arrested the doctor who had helped my Mum and took him to prison. He was later executed. My Mum lived with a few other PMOI members in a safe house in Tehran’s Pars district. On 2 May 1982, the regime launched a widespread attack on PMOI bases and safe houses across Tehran, and my Mum and I were arrested and taken to Evin Prison. I was only a few weeks old at the time. Despite my grandparents trying to secure my release from prison and raise me in their home, the regime did not permit it and I was in Evin Prison till I was two years old. In Evin Prison my Mum was under constant torture and long interrogations, so she was not able to take care of me, and I was cared for by other female prisoners.
At the age of two my grandparents managed to get custody of me and take me home with them. If I want to describe how I came to know the PMOI I have to say that since I opened my eyes to this world I was surrounded by the PMOI. All I saw of the Khomeini regime was torture and execution, and from the PMOI, paying the price of freedom. I was raised in a family where my Dad and uncles, along with five other members of my family, were all executed by the regime for being members of the PMOI. I was raised hearing the name of Massoud Rajavi. It is customary in Iran that when a child is born they recite verses of the Koran in their ears, but they told me when I was born that they had whispered “Death to Khomeini, Long Live Rajavi” in my ears.
Seeing my Mum and uncles in jail and then seeing their pictures set up on our fireplace, I used to ask my grandparents, “Why is my Mum in prison? Why did they kill my Dad and uncles?” When I was little they would refrain from replying and change the subject, but when I was five years old, one day my grandfather told me about the Mojahedin. He said that they fought for freedom and sacrificed their lives to free the people of Iran. Every night at 8 p.m. my grandfather would try to listen to the PMOI radio programme, sifting through the static. This is how I spent my childhood, and this was a glimpse into how I came to know the PMOI.
In our home we knew Massoud Rajavi as our leader. They used to show his picture to us and tell us, “This is uncle Massoud, one day he will return to Iran and call all the children whose fathers have been executed to join him.” So as someone who had lost her father, I felt an intense relationship with the leader of the resistance. When I grew up I always wanted to see him and always thought about him. Since I was raised in a family who were PMOI supporters, I came to know the meaning of injustice and freedom early on. My Mum spent ten years in Khomeini’s jails. The signs of savage torture are still visible on her body. My older uncle spent seven years in the Shah and Khomeini’s prisons. My younger uncle was severely tortured for five years; his cellmates had even documented the tortures he endured and I still have a copy of their report with me. The Khomeini regime executed him after five years of torture. Since I was a child I learned from the Mojahedin that you have to pay a price for freedom.
In 1988, I was taken to my mother in prison. Under Khomeini’s regime, if a child needs to be with her mother and the mother happens to be in prison then she has to go to prison to join her mother. So I accepted the terms and joined my Mum and the rest of the PMOI women in prison. 1988 coincided with the massacre of PMOI prisoners. I will never forget the events that transpired that year. I witnessed first hand the transfer of prisoners for mass executions. I saw their mutilated bodies when they returned from the torture chamber. The torturers used to whip the prisoners using cables to a point that most could hardly stand on their feet. Most of the PMOI could not eat the prison rations and had bleeding ulcers. Many had problems with their kidneys because of the lashes they received; some of them had to go through dialysis because their kidneys were not functioning.
Some experienced constant headaches and migraine from being hit in the head and most suffered from poor eyesight. I saw with my own eyes the bodies of the women who were tortured; their torn backs, feet and hands. I have seen the correctional cells with only a small window for air, in which they would place many people at the same time. I have talked through those small windows to the prisoners and exchanged information. They were all my friends, and despite all the tortures they endured they were all upbeat and energetic. Even though I was in prison with them, as long as I was amongst them I had a good feeling. They use to sing and read poetry and tell me about their resistance under torture. They told me: “You have to leave the prison and tell everyone what is happening in here.” Most of them knew that they would soon be executed, but they never lost their passion for life. Most of the people who were in prison with me were executed in the 1988 massacre of political prisoners, including Mozhgan Sorbi, 26, Azadeh Tabib, 25, Mahin Ghoreishi, Fereshteh Hamidi, and others . . .
Azadeh Tabib was a champion in resistance under torture. My Mum and Azadeh were suspended from the ceiling for long periods of time. The pressure on their arms and wrists was so much that they weren’t able to move their wrists and they were transferred to hospital for surgery. Mahin Ghoreishi, whose husband was executed, had a seven-year-old boy named Mohammad. Mahin was executed because of her belief in freedom and her membership of the PMOI. My Mum had taught me a poem with revolutionary innuendos and when the regime’s Guards heard me sing it, they took my Mum to the interrogation rooms and severely tortured her; when she returned she looked victorious and started telling her friends about the episode. I have a lot of facts from the torture methods applied and the resistance of the Mojahedin at Evin Prison; when the time comes to put the officials of the regime on trial I will testify and present them to an international tribunal responsible for their trial.
Once when the prisoners were led to the yard for fresh air, I was about five and a half. A few of my Mum’s friends started talking to the Guards, keeping them busy while my Mum and a few others took me to the corner of the yard and had me stand on top of the shoulders of one of the tallest female prisoners. They told me to start calling the names of some prisoners. I could hardly see the other side of the wall, all I could see was one of the cells buried in the ground with the bars peeking through. I started calling the names they told me. As soon as I started calling their names they started lining up behind the bars at the window of the cell. They were my Mum’s friends who were defiant prisoners sent to the underground ce
lls as punishment. I relayed the information my Mum and her friends gave me; it was so exciting. When I was done with relaying the information, they used to ask me to recite them this poem:
The star was torn to pieces, but never fell out of the sky,
Star, O Star, this is how it is,
Whoever has a star, will end up at the gallows.
From their tiny cells they used to clap their hands and give me the sign of victory. Then they would recite a poem to me as well; unfortunately I don’t remember the words. All I remember is that it was a poem about resistance and freedom. In 1988 everyone who was in the correctional cells was executed.
Martyred Mojahed Mahin Ghoreishi once called me and asked me, “Do you know the tale of the little black fish?” I told her that I had the book and I had read it, and she told me, “You have to become like the little black fish and start swimming till you reach the ocean.” She was executed for being a member of the PMOI and she left me a scarf with the embroidery of a little black fish on its corner.
When the mass executions began and they were executing people in waves, the prison officials started removing the children from the prison wards. They had started the executions and they sent me to my grandma and grandfather’s house in Karaj. During the mass executions, most of the people I had come to know were executed. My Mum was supposed to be executed as well, but through the intense efforts of my grandfather and his friends who were the heads of some banks in Tehran, they managed to rescue her from death row.
When I turned 15, I felt that I could not live in a society which was oppressed by the Mullahs. Despite the fact that I lived in an affluent family, there was always something inside me that made me rebel against the poverty and injustice around me. I did not want a life of oppression under the Mullahs in Iran. I always thought of Massoud Rajavi and wanted to fight for a free Iran alongside him. When I turned 17, I told my Mum that I didn’t want to stay there any longer and I wanted to go where Massoud Rajavi was and become a freedom fighter. My Mum was always under surveillance, so I had to flee Iran illegally to the Iraqi border in order to join the Mojahedin. I managed to go through the Salmas mountains in north-west Iran and entered a village in Turkey. Trying to reach Turkey through the mountains while I was waist-deep in snow took 20 hours. I thought I might be arrested at the border trying to reach Ashraf.
When I reached Turkey I took refuge in a home at the first village I came to. I told them that I had run away from Iran. Both my legs had turned blue from walking in the snow. When I got to the villagers’ home I could not walk or stand on my feet any longer. With the help of the villagers I recuperated, and when I felt better I got myself to the Iraqi border. When I finally made it to Baghdad, I was so exhausted I could hardly stand up. Finally I made it to the first Mojahedin base, and was greeted warmly by my brothers and sisters; it was as though after years of searching I had finally found my ultimate destination. I was part of the third generation after the revolution to join Ashraf.
In 2003, after the war in Iraq, we had to turn in our weapons to the Americans, and in return we were supposed to be protected; but what transpired was the betrayal of that promise by the United States. In Ashraf I started taking online courses in computer software and programming. Upon completing the courses, I worked towards updating the computer systems in Ashraf. On 28 and 29 July 2009, when the Iraqi forces attacked us I was hit with metal bars and bats. They used high-pressure water cannons on us, which caused the loss of hearing in my right ear. It had damaged the mastoid bone in my ear and the effects are irreversible.
During the 8 April 2011 attack on Ashraf, the Iraqi forces attacked us using loaders and armoured vehicles. One of the Iraqi soldiers put his gun to my chest and said, “If you don’t move I am going to shoot you.” They kept hitting us with clubs and bats. The bullets kept passing through the air very close to me and struck a friend who was filming the assault. My friend and I were picked up by the loader and thrown off a considerable height and half of my body was caught under the loader. I was pulled out and taken to hospital, where I was told that my right kidney had been damaged and was bleeding.
Oppression in my country is savage and criminal. Being a witness to the massacre of 30,000 political prisoners at the age of six has been extremely traumatic. Daily executions of young people, cutting off hands, and suppression of freedom of speech in the twenty-first century are catastrophic. My country is one of the richest countries in the world and you have no idea the degree of poverty I have witnessed in Iran. The Mullahs’ prisons are filled with political prisoners. Believe me, I always wished I could have seen my father who was a PMOI member. I had heard so much about him and his bravery, but these Mullahs took him away and made me and many other children orphans.
I feel that, amongst the many people who are born, there are only a few who will leave a lasting mark on this world; this is the destiny of human beings. I found my destiny in my struggle, and I know that believing in freedom has its own challenges and hardships. The Iranian regime and their Iraqi and Western allies have challenged us in so many different ways through these years; but they cannot destroy us. We represent an ideology and a belief system that cannot be simply destroyed. The struggle is not part of my life; it is all of my life. We are in this to the end.’
43
I Am Ashrafi
How easily the West allows itself to be repeatedly duped by the fascist rulers of Iran. Past-masters at the art of deception, they have defied world opinion for the preceding decade in their race to build nuclear weapons, but after eight tortuous years of confrontation with the unstable Ahmadinejad at the helm, Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei finally realised that the only way to buy more time was to convince the West that a moderate had emerged as the new president of Iran.
The arrival of the cleric Hassan Rouhani, following the presidential elections in Iran, seemingly ticked all of the boxes. The Western press crowed that this new ‘moderate’ president, who had attended university in Glasgow, Scotland, would be open to dialogue on stopping the nuclear programme and would be a harbinger of positive change for the repressed masses in Iran. Sadly, nothing could be further from the truth.
Firstly, the role of president in Iran is virtually ceremonial. Total power under the Iranian constitution lies with the unelected ‘Supreme Leader’ Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, who succeeded the late Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini, founder of the Islamic Republic. The Supreme Leader is supposed to take his instructions directly from God, and as such can overrule acts of parliament and can even choose which candidates can stand for election.
Under article 110 of the constitution, the Supreme Leader can dismiss the president and appoint or remove commanders of the Revolutionary Guards and the army, the chief justice, and the head of state-run radio and television, among many others. On top of that, he has the power to issue a ‘state decree’ which overrides all decisions made by any person or institution in the country. Decisions on sensitive issues such as the war in Syria or the nuclear programme are entirely in the domain of the Supreme Leader, not the president.
Elections in Iran are not a contest between the governing party and the opposition. At best, they are a shuffle within the ruling clique, and even then women are excluded, denying half the population their right to representation. The real opposition has been systematically arrested, tortured and executed. The so-called Council of Guardians, whose members are handpicked by the Supreme Leader, can easily disqualify candidates in any election.
Hassan Rouhani emerged from a list of eight hand-picked candidates, who were variously advisers, aides or representatives of Khamenei. Rouhani has been part of the fascist establishment for three decades. He held the position of Secretary of the Supreme National Security Council for 16 years and was appointed by Khamenei as a member of the powerful Expediency Council. He was also chief nuclear negotiator with the European Troika, where he later proudly declared that he had successfully bought time to advance Iran’s nuclear weapons technology while he deceived EU le
aders who were busy negotiating with him.
Rouhani’s approval by the Guardian Council, while former President Ali-Akbar Hashemi Rafsanjani was disqualified, was yet another sign of his slavish subservience to the Supreme Leader. Rouhani’s role was now mainly to buy time for the Mullahs’ nuclear goals, something that he had successfully done in the past. Indeed in his book, National Security and Nuclear Diplomacy, he laboriously complains about the PMOI’s nuclear revelations in 2002. He makes it quite clear that the regime’s problems began after the PMOI exposed Iran’s two major nuclear sites in Natanz and Arak.
Rouhani was also faced with three major issues that had to be resolved if the Mullahs’ regime was to survive. The first was the nuclear issue, second the war in Syria and Iraq and the inexorable rise of the Islamic State (ISIS or ISIL), and third was the toll of sanctions on Iran’s devastated economy. The regime was facing a dire situation due to the impact of sanctions, as well as the downturn in the cost of oil and widespread youth unemployment. There are currently an estimated five million unemployed youths in Iran.
The entire survival of the regime is based on the notion of the absolute rule of the clergy, and any deviation from this principle will inevitably lead to a rupture of the environment of fear and terror and result in its fall. It is for this very reason that Khamenei has resisted any form of political manoeuvring, let alone serious political reform. Internal reform is unlikely to happen regardless of who holds the presidency. A free Iran will be one with no Mullahs in power.
Self-Sacrifice Page 27
