My Name Is Mahtob

by Mahtob Mahmoody

  I was so upset by my initial reading of the packet from Kombiz that I stuffed the pages back into their envelope and buried the whole thing in this box. My strategy for dealing with my dad hadn’t changed with time. I remained resolute to avoid all forms of communication with him.

  What did change was my relationship with my beloved Amoo Kombiz. Since it seemed he was on a mission to reunite me with my father, I sadly made the decision to excise him from my life as well. I wasn’t surprised by the fact that my dad had made use of an opportunity to manipulate yet another person into helping him in his quest to control me. The surprise for me was that Kombiz would betray me by falling for my dad’s ploy.

  For many years, I have been making a concerted effort to reframe my dad’s attacks as “just information.” I’ve had lots of practice and still, it requires a conscious effort. When I learned to control my thinking in this way, I really did find it empowering. It allowed me to take a step back and objectively examine my dad’s methods independent from the emotions they conjured up in me. From that vantage point, I could more clearly recognize his desperation. It is this perspective that revealed to me the power I held over him. I may not have been able to stop him from hounding me, but my persistent avoidance was having an impact.

  When I was sixteen, his message had been that I am his daughter; I have the blood of Fatimah and he will not allow me to be anything but Muslim. By the time I was twenty-two, he was invoking the name of my God, a God in whom he had forbidden me to believe, in an ineffectual attempt to sway me into correspondence with words like, “May our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, Keep you . . .” His incessant stream of e-mails had been incapacitating until I learned to change my viewpoint and began seeing them as “just information.” Sometimes, though, despite my best efforts, I failed miserably. That had certainly been the case the evening I sat alone in my office and read the packet that I now hold in my hands. Even so, maybe I have ignored these pages long enough. Plus, it’s No-ruz, and I miss my uncle. Maybe it’s time to bury the hatchet, especially now that there is no reunion to be facilitated. Now there truly is only information.

  My dad died on August 22, 2009. I learned of his passing on the day it happened. A friend from Germany saw it on the news and called. My dad’s death had little impact on me. As far as I’m concerned, he died the day he told us we couldn’t leave Iran.

  Taking a deep breath, I revisit the words I first read four years ago.

  From Kombiz to Moody

  Dear Bozorg, as we always called you Moody Jon:

  I was glad to get your call and sad to hear about your health status. First thing first, and that is about Mahtob. . . . I was always at awe as how great she was. It is most regrettable that you did not witness her growing up. . . . Considering what she went through, she came out really well. She excelled in her studies, she was a sociable child, highly responsible human being. One thing she for sure inherited from you was her drive and independence. She was not someone whom someone could railroad her into something she did not want to do. She obeyed her mom and loved and respected her immensely. I know and witnessed that Betty dedicated her life to her and the result is quite notable. . . .

  As I mentioned to you, several years ago, there was an attempt by a European media (TV or Newspapers) to sponsor getting you and Mahtob together in Europe. She was quite an adult and could travel with no restrictions. However, Mahtob turned that idea down. I think it is opportune time to revisit that issue and see if that idea can come to fruition. If I establish communication with Betty and Mahtob, I will pursue that option. . . .

  I think Mahtob and you can establish relationship. Most assuredly, you must be confident that Betty is not, was not and would not oppose such a move. I am as confident on this issue as knowing my name. She would not at all interfere and she would leave it up to her. If she does not want and would not want, it would be her decision. The only thing you can do, is to put her under the knife and remove that gene of yours that you gave her. If you could remove that gene, then she would be willing to do anything anyone would say. . . .

  To express the degree of Betty’s absence of malice, it suffices to say that she would not object if she would select a Persian man to be her husband. In fact, for a while, Mahtob had a friend of Persian descent. . . .

  I consider . . . religion to be the cause of Man’s most miseries, regardless of the type of religion we are talking about. If we would abolish religion in its entirety and adhere to a single and simple principle of treating others the way we want to be treated, the need for all religions and the cause of human abuse goes away. It is fundamentally ludicrous that we kill and destroy others because the God that we have never seen is not the God described by the way others perceive. The reason I mention this is because once I noted that Mahtob does also have strong religious beliefs. We discussed the issue at length and I reached that conclusion. You should accept it as her choice as I accepted that as my children’s choice. . . .

  Anyhow, I have no idea if you value my judgment or not. However, if it still has any value with you, I must share with you that you simply have a fantastic daughter. As I conveyed to Sassan, your just punishment for that stunt you pulled was not to have witnessed the growth of this marvelous daughter of yours. I don’t think any other punishment would have been appropriate. . . .

  Past is past and I am not going to dwell on it. Your friends were all disappointed to a great deal, more than you can ever imagine. We were all at awe why you did what you did. The concern for humanitarian cause can be shared with others. However, those of us who knew you and considered you as our leader, our hero, the man with integrity, wisdom, leadership qualities second to none, were totally shocked. Anyway, someday I will share with you what went through our minds. . . .

  Kombiz

  From Moody to Kombiz

  Kombiz Jon, Ghorbanat Gardam!

  Thank you for your beautiful, long, and informative letter. I enjoyed reading it and I was hoping it would never end! It made me both happy and sad. . . .

  Thank you so much for telling me so much about Mahtob. You made me feel more proud of her than before. I knew she was intelligent, and had leadership qualities. I wish her happiness and success. You know that my love for her is double fold: one as my daughter, and another, since the very first look at her face, I saw my mother’s face in her. At that moment I thanked God to have given me a daughter and given me back the mother whom I had lost as a young boy. So, I loved and cherished her—and she knew that. I say that because when I would come home from the hospital she would run to me, circle her arms around me and would kiss me on the cheek, saying “Daddy loves me YE ALAME.”

  As far as my treating Betty while living in Iran is concerned, we had a loving three member family. Knowing the cultural differences with my Iranian relatives, we stayed away from them, instead we mixed with other mixed cultures (Iranian husbands with American wives). We had such a warm and friendly home (I should say LOVING HOME). Our family relation was envied by many of our American and British friends. Unfortunately, Betty’s co-writer in her book and the movie “Not without My Daughter” had ignored this, instead I was presented as a cruel abusive beating man, who separated a child from her mother (or vice versa) And Betty was introduced as an abused woman. On the contrary, I loved and cherished my wife and daughter.

  Generally speaking, I sympathize with Betty (as is described in the BOOK and the MOVIE Not Without my Daughter). Who in a sound mind and with a kind heart and an HONEST judgment would NOT do so?! a lady with her beloved daughter been KIDNAPPED, and taken to a foreign country as uncivilized as I-RAN; beaten up regularly; taken hostage and imprisoned with no food (the little food they had was full of WORMS and ROACHES) or freedom to talk or to leave house; who had no water to take a bath with (except one and a half times during her 18 months spent in IRAN—you know “Iranians take one shower A YEAR”; who had been threatened to death; who had to ESCAPE to FREEDOM (to the United States!) In freezing rain and blizzard with tiny l
ittle girl (Her BLOVED DAUGHTER) against watching eyes of her husband’s CRUELL family and the BRUTAL Pasdaran police, as well as other uncountable ODDS and DANGERS and NATURAL DISASTERS and BOMBS and EXPLOSIONS. . . .”.

  Not only I SYPATHIZE with THAT Betty and her DAUGHTER, All powers to her who could take her DAUGHTER across the frozen Mount Zagros to FREEDOM (she should not be a heroine in the eyes of abused wives but ALL the HONORABLE people regardless of their gender and marital experiences), but I also sympathize with her SYPATHIZERS throughout the world, especially with the women who like THAT Betty, have been abused and mistreated by anyone, let alone their HUSBANDS!. . . . More so I am glad to see there are so many freedom lovers and those who are against human abuse and oppression. But more than that, I am SURPRIZED that how few are the number of her readers who love JUSTICE and have respect for rights of women!! (let’s be honest, they are at least more than the occupants of the so called WHITE HOUSE—BLACK house fits better). God knows, my heart bleeds for SUCH Betty, and her DAUGHTER!

  BUT, SUCH BETTY NEVER EXISTED!!

  It only was Mr. William Hoffer’s brain child—NOT the daughter of Mr. Harold and Mrs. Fern Lover whom I married on June 6th 1977 at the mosque on Richmond Avenue in Houston, Texas U.S.A. Neither was she the one mothered my child. And nor was the REAL Betty who became Mrs. MAHMOODY! The REAL Betty L. Lover, Smith who later became the REAL Mrs. MAHMOODY, was the lady who was being treated like a queen. She received a set of diammond rings at the wedding as her dowry. Three days later on her birthday, I gave her a surprise birthday party, along with punch and cake a big meal, a diamond watch. Soon after I started my medical practice in Texas, we sent round trip tickets for her children and parents to fly south to Texas to spend summer holidays with us. While in Corpus Christi, we took them first class gourmet restaurants with food of different nations including Mexican, Irish, Japanese and of course, to sea food buffets. As with other relatives, siblings and friends of Betty, we took them for three hour ride to the Mexican boarder towns for sight seeing and shopping. And on vacation to summer resorts in Texas. Don’t mention the trips to Padre Island sandy beaches, to swim in the warm waters of Gulf of Mexico.

  Catching my breath, I remind myself yet again that this is only information. This is only information. This is only information.

  In just a few months my private practice in Texas flourished and my income was raised to around $30,000 a month. Soon after that we bought the biggest and most attractive two-story marble house on the block in an affluent neighborhood of the city. The house was surrounded by velvety St. Augustine grass, resembling a green Persian hand-made carpet. It had lots of flowers with a unique cactus garden, as well as olive, palm, orange and grapefruit trees. . . .

  It was not a coincident that the REAL Betty in Iran too, was enjoying SIMILAR conveniences. Here too, we had a large villa-type house in Pasdaran (an affluent part of North Tehran), with a nice lawn, lots of flowers, several trees, including a cherry tree (Mahtob and our neighbor girls of her age would pick cherries for us) . . . In addition, this house in Tehran had a swimming pool. This, was an advantage over our Texas house. The house was fully furnished with Italian furniture, and American appliances, as well as Persian hand made carpets, a color T.V. and an electric organ. She was free to go shopping or visiting with her friends any time she pleased (she always had bundles of ESKENAS to spend shopping) On several occasions she bought some Persian hand made gifts and sent to her folks in the States. Mr. William Hoffer, her co-writer had politicized a nice family relation to attack not only me, but The Islamic Republic of Iran.

  Kombize AZZI ZAM, my coming to Iran was not to carry signs in support of the POLITICAL system in Iran, (not at all) but instead, to help the war victims, the injured, who were mostly my relatives, my fellow town’s men and women, if nothing else, my fellow country men and women. And even if not that, they were HUMAN BEINGS. As an Iranian well trained physician (Anesthesiologist) I had a duty toward my people to serve them during an unwanted imposed war! Honest to God, If I, as an Iranian physician would NOT come to help, would doctors from say Canada, Holland, or France would go to a war torn foreign land and help the many war victims? And now if offering such services at such a critical time and era has annoyed some Iranians overseas, let it be so. They are annoyed because they were not correctly informed. I really think what I did, when I did it deserves a HUMANITERIAN RECOGNITION AWARD. I am proud of what I did. I think teaching at the university and training generations of young doctors for my country in addition to offering my medical services, is some thing to make all IRAN LOVERS if not proud, but at least happy. Because I DID what so many of them longed to do but did NOT get the opportunity to do so. You know A friend in need is a friend indeed. I think I accomplished my mission.

  Now HONESTLY you judge, I separated Mahtob from a parent, or that was Betty who separated Mahtob from her NATURAL FATHER? She took her AWAY from a kind loving and warm home! . . .

  You may forward a copy of this letter to [our mutual friends] to inform them of the truth may be reconsider their thinking about my actions. I hereby apologize if I had caused them hard feeling.

  Please stay in touch.

  My love to all,

  Ghobanat, Moody.

  P.S. convey my love to Mahtob, if you ever get in touch with her . . .

  What nerve! He apologized to his friends, but not to me! And what an empty apology at that. He’s not really saying he’s sorry. He just wants them to buy into his delusional version of the truth.

  Breathe, I remind myself. This is only information.

  From Kombiz to Moody

  Moody Jon Salaam,

  Your English is still excellent. Let me ask a personal question. Deep down, do you not think that you made a big mistake? It blows my mind when I think of what you were, what you could have and what you did not have. How dare you left me? You even left Faryar. You did not even say good bye. Please do not tell me it was a two-week vacation. If you did not have a BS and a MS in math, I would have said, you are poor in arithmetic. You did not know that the math degrees would someday come to haunt you. If you had not pursued the math major, now you could have a way out. . . .

  Well, dear friend. Do take care of yourself. You are still a lucky man. You have a daughter who is safe, happy and has a great life. . . .

  Pleasant dreams.

  Kombiz

  From Moody to Kombiz

  Kombize Azziz,

  It is about 1:30 pm your time. I hope you enjoyed you lunch, but b/4 you take your little cat nap read the answers to YR Q’s. . . .

  “How dare you left me? You even left Faryar.”

  Never left you guys! I had not taken your phone numbers with me. So I had no access to all of you. You should excuse me for that.

  “Please do not tell me it was a two-week vacation”

  It was not a two-weeks-vacation! It was not supposed to! We had plan to stay awhile. It was open enden stay. . . . So it was by no means a 2wks.vac. and if the war had ended, we would all together have returned to the States. There was no need for Betty to Kidnap Mahtob and make a big deal about it! It would have been enough for Betty to tell me she wanted to return to America.

  “Let me ask a personal question. Deep down, do you not think that you made a big mistake?”

  Yes, I do. I never thought:

  1) Betty would destroy our family. She had a comfortable life here in Iran that was envied by most of her foreign friends! . . .

  2) That the Iranian Government official would so mistreat me. I had to work and teach six months almost free for them to accept my American Medical Diploma. Besides, my colleagues were jealous of my American training and high skills. They caused all kinds of problems for me. Despite all of that, I persevered and was able to train generations of young doctors for MY PEOPLE, the job few others would do! I did such a good job and for such a long time that they finally name me the PHISICIAN OF THE YEAR in 2003. Disregarding this accomplishment, a few months later they made a coup against me
and retired me OVER NIGHT, in favor of a young doctor of their Mafia group. Of course on the other side of the coin, I am glad that I was—and still am—useful for my country and the people I love! Let us be honest about it, it has cost me my comfortable family life, if not much more.

  “Your English is still excellent.”

  . . . My gosh, I lived I life time in Eglish speaking world. Besides I am from ABADAN! . . .

  Fadayat, Moody.

  From Kombiz to Moody

  Dear Moody:

  Hope all is well with you and you are in great spirits enjoying your health and your life.

  I am going to write to you in detail and share with you what is in my heart and soul. What I am going to share with you is my thoughts, ideas, and beliefs, rightly or wrongly. If I don’t share with you what I think and what I believe, then our friendship is worthless.

  1) On the subject of your relationship with Mahtob, I hope and pray to God that you establish a relationship, if for nothing else, for her sake.

  I fundamentally believe in the value of blood attracting blood. I think you attract Mahtob and Mahtob attracts you. Father-daughter relationship is as holy as son-mother relationship. I firmly and truly believe that any man on Earth is extremely lucky to be her father. She is that good. I don’t think you can detect how good of a person Mahtob is. You must truly understand and accept that she went through a major trauma in life and in spite of all the love and respect I have for you, it is my firm belief that you were the cause of that induced trauma.

  I give you the benefit of the doubt and accept that you had no desire, intention or wish for her to be traumatized. I have known you and accepted you to be a highly compassionate man. You were compassionate with your patients, friends, and associates. I fully remember that everyone respected you and everyone spoke so highly of you.