[Part three]
When the prayer was over, many women, whom I didn’t know, came to greet both me and my daughter and wish us a happy Eid. A few minutes later, the organizers lifted the curtain between men and women and all people joined together.
At the corner of the entrance, outside of where we were praying, was a long table full of pastries, a nice and organized pile of doughnuts, cookies, a large pot of sweet tea, lots of orange juice boxes, a big bowl of tangerines, and many other snacks and eateries.
I took an almond turnover pastry, and two tangerines to eat later. I wasn’t hungry whatsoever. It was only one day away from my fasting routine. My body wasn’t used to breakfast or morning snacks.
A tall, handsome young man was walking around the table and filling in the plates. “Salam alaikum brother,” I gently moved myself toward him, “Do you know why there aren’t any reporters here?”
“Salam alaikum sister,” he replied. “I do not know. We have this gathering every year. Maybe they are used to it. Maybe it is not new for them,” he replied.
“Have you ever sent inquiries to Wisconsin Public Radio or Wisconsin State Journal,” I asked.
I was angry about the media’s silence about the harm we created in Iraq, Syria, and earlier in Afghanistan.
By then, I was working as an intern producer for Here on Earth, Radio Without Borders at Wisconsin Public Radio. I have already produced a few programs for the show. I knew many people at the station, including the news desk.
“Oh, yeah, we usually send our press releases to many media stations like Wisconsin State Journal, or Wisconsin Public Radio. But they never come,” he replied.
I felt intense internally. I didn’t mention I worked for WPR, Wisconsin Public Radio, or I was a journalist. In my heart, I was quite upset.
“I’m sure if there was a single person in this congregation suspicious of terrorist involvement, we could see many police officers and reporters here,” I said sarcastically.
I was referring to the non-stop reports by the Western media about the ISIS attacks on American military bases in Iraq and Syria during mid 2012. My newsfeed was full of locations that ISIS attacked. Most of the stories focused on U.S. military casualties, and framed Muslims as villains.
As I received the news, I was always angry about the media’s silence about the harm we created against communities we attacked in Iraq, Syria, and earlier in Afghanistan. But, when it came to any attacks carried out by ISIS, the Western media did not hesitate to blame all Muslims, including American Muslims, for the wrongdoing of the terrorist groups outside the United States.
If we never attacked Iraq, slaughtered people in Syria, or left Afghans to deal with the Taliban, would we have ISIS or Al-Qaeda terrorist groups in the region?
ISIS participated in the Iraqi insurgency against the American occupation between 2013 and 2014. After gaining momentum and support from the people inside Iraq and Syria, ISIS was emboldened and declared itself to be a worldwide Caliphate.
As a self-proclaimed caliphate, the group demanded the religious, political, and military obedience of the Muslim world.
For several years, ISIS killed Muslims and non-Muslims alike, for personal and political agenda. But, when it came to reporting on their activities, the name “Muslims,” or “Islamic group” never missed a beat in the Western media coverage.
Madison, Wisconsin, August 2012 around 2 p.m.
With my family, we walked toward the car after a few more minutes. I turned back and looked at the crowd I was leaving behind. “There are too many colors, lots of happiness, so many beautiful people. I can not let this go in vain,” I thought to myself as we left the parking lot.
If we never attacked Iraq, slaughtered people in Syria, or left Afghans to deal with the Taliban, would we have ISIS or Al-Qaeda terrorist groups in the region?
I quietly drove us back home. My daughter was already deep in her sleep. My husband was talking on the phone, and I was in a different place and space.
Tehran, September 1988, around 4 p.m.
I was in our mansion in Tehran, sitting on a large beige sofa reading Etellaat Newspaper. I started reading newspapers about two years ago when I turned 14. My dad subscribed to the Etellaat Newspaper and Hamshahri Newspaper, due to my unending insistence.
Etellaat was a conservative, state-run newspaper with lots of propaganda in favor of the government. Hamshahri was, more or less, an independent paper that covered social issues and was governed by Tehran’s city municipality. I usually browsed Etellaat first, then compared the major stories with Hamshahri Newspaper. I looked for holes and lies in the stories they covered. I trusted Hamshahri more, unaware that I’d be working on the same paper a few years later.
My mom was passing by to go to her bedroom on the first floor when she saw me sitting on the sofa. “What are you reading?” she asked.
I was deep in my reading, however, I took an interest in my mom’s attention to my reading.
“Oh, there is an article here about divorce law,” I said. “The women in the parliament say that women’s alimony, of what they receive after the divorce, must match inflation,” I said. “I must see what Hamshahri Newspaper says about the same matter,” I said, trying to go back to my article.
When have you seen these bastards Mullahs [clerics] do anything good for women?” my mom said.
“And, you are going to believe these bastards?” my mom said.
I looked up, eyeing her with pleasant surprise. She never swears, she is usually calm and reserved. Hearing her utter the word “bastard” warmed my heart. I felt I got hidden permission to use the same word: bastards. Sweet.
“These are Mullahs,” she continued, “When have you seen these bastards do anything good for women?” she said. Then she came closer, looking at me from above while standing half a foot away, “You know Sara, I love your dad. I really do. I have no intention of divorcing him. But if I do, these bastards don’t let me. You know why?” she asked. “Because I am a woman who was born with the wrong genitals; because women have no place in society; because women in this country, and this damn religion, are minor. There is no place for women as human beings; there is no place for women as individuals in Iran,” she said.
Looking up at her, I almost forgot to breathe. I have never seen her so mad, so upset, so out of her element. “But Maman, this is not right,” I said. “We must fight.”
“Oh darling,” she said, “What can your 16-year-old brain comprehend about these bastards and their damn religions? They do everything in the name of Islam, in the name of Allah. They do something in public and something else in private. They are going to do shit in the name of Islam,” she said and left me with an open mouth.
“I do not let this go in vain, Maman,” I whispered to myself.
Back in Iran, the regime kills women in the name of Islam. Women get imprisoned, killed, or beaten if they don’t wear their scarves right.
In the U.S. the government and the media depict Muslims as villains, as unworthy human beings who deserve to be beaten and killed. Iran to women is Western media to Muslims.
Madison, WI, 2012
Muslims are not terrorists. Iranian women are not victims. Period.
And just like that, we got home before noon. We had to get ready to go to my friend’s house for the Eid party.
Please Pledge to Our Peace Journalism.
Goltune is editorially independent. We set our agenda. No one edits our editors. No one steers our opinion. This is important as it enables us to stay true to our values.
Every contribution we receive from readers like you, big or small, goes directly into funding our journalism. Please support Goltune, large or small.
Send your contributions to our PayPal account: [email protected]
Or, Click the link to pledge your support.
Thank you,
Goltune Editorial Team