Nonviolence & Revolution: "I Know the One Thing We Did Right, Was the Day We Started to Fight...."

Today Americans are gearing up for 4th of July events, buying fireworks and getting out the grills to celebrate the success of the American Revolutionary War.

(Photo: http://www.vivekhegde.com/photos/index.php?showimage=48)

Journalist Ann Curry, whose work on Iran I respect, penned the following tweet this morning:

RT @AnnCurry: On July 4th, praise revolutionaries, without whom, America would not have won independence

Marjane Satrapi, Iranian graphic novelist and author of Persepolis, wrote a very powerful Op-Ed for today's New York Times titled, "I Must Go Home to Iran Again." In it she captures a portrait of today's revolutionaries:

"The question much of the media asked before the election was: “Are Iranians ready for democracy?”

“YES!” came the answer, loud and oh, so clear.

With a voter turnout of 85 percent, they started to dream that change was possible.

They started to believe “Yes they can,” too.

It’s likely needless to remind you that this was not the first time Iranians showed how much they love freedom. Look only at the 20th century: They launched the Constitutional Revolution of 1906 (the first in Asia); nationalized the oil industry in 1951 (the first Middle Eastern country to do so); mounted the revolution of 1979; and engineered the student revolt of 1999. Which brings us to now, and that deafening cry for democracy.

Almost 20 years ago, when I started studying art in Tehran, the very idea of “politics” was so frightening that we didn’t even dare think about it. To talk about it? Beyond belief!

To demonstrate in the streets against the president? Surreal!

Criticize the supreme leader? Apocalyptic!

Shouting “Down with Khamenei”? Death!

Death, torture and prison are part of daily life for the youth of Iran. They are not like us, my friends and I at their age; they are not scared. They are not what we were.

They hold hands and scream: “Don’t be afraid! Don’t be afraid! We are together!”

They understand that no one will give them their rights; they must go get them.

They understand that unlike the generation before them — my generation, for whom the dream was to leave Iran — the real dream is not to leave Iran but to fight for it, to free it, to love it and to reconstruct it.

They hold hands and scream: “We will fight! We will die! But we won’t be humiliated!”

They went out knowing that going to each demonstration meant signing their death warrants.

Today I read somewhere that “the velvet revolution” of Iran became the “velvet coup,” with a little note of irony, but let me tell you something: This generation, with its hopes, dreams, anger and revolt, has forever changed the course of history. Nothing is going to be the same.

From now on, nobody will judge Iranians by their so-called elected president.

From now on, Iranians are fearless. They have regained their self-confidence.

Despite all the dangers they said NO!

And I’m convinced this is just the beginning."

These young people have given her the hope that she will one day not only be able to return to Iran to die, but return to Iran to live. There is nothing more revolutionary than hope. And this generation of young people has given Iran back this gift.

Another Tweet from today:

RT @IranRiggedElect “There is no hope unmingled with fear, and no fear unmingled with hope.” -- Baruch Spinoza

I remember on this celebration of revolutions past, the words spoken by Commander Nathaniel Greene inspired by the fight in my own hometown:

"We fight, get beat, rise, and fight again."

It is a strategy that works. So is nonviolence. Keep your eyes on the prize, my readers inside and outside of Iran. Peace in every step. Nothing can defeat you if there is no place for defeat inside you. Here is a picture, taken from The Negarponti Files, of what a people who will have justice, who will have freedom, who have already won the most important battleground- the battle of the psyche, looks like to me:

Tehran, A city transformed by love and silenced by force.

We shall overcome one day.

Oh, SNAP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and So You're Back, From Outer Space

We now take a brief break from our recent discussion of (still) unfolding events in Iran. We digress, not because of Michael Jackson's death and a subsequent feeling of obligation to initiate a global media Michael-Jackson-Muharram in his name, but because something *actually important* has happened:

SWEET JESUS ON A BISCUIT, THE CONTRACEPTIVE SPONGE IS BACK!!!!!!!

If you have a uterus and live in America, there is no need for me to explain the great auspiciousness of this occasion. De profundis clamavi ad te, oh, Sponge. Gloria in excelsis Walgreen's. I have remarked on this before, but the cat-and-mouse repeat disappearances of the Sponge from the American market are profoundly impactful on the lives of American women. If you are a man- (He jests at scars that never felt a wound)-imagine ALL condoms being inexplicably pulled from the market. And then imagine that any emissions that exited your body and made contact with a woman would then grow, magically attached to *your* body, tapping your folate stores, bank account, and will to live for the next nine months to twenty years. Scary, huh?

I wrote this the last time the Sponge was pulled off the shelves, the beginnings of a meditation on reproductive bodily authority and social control, but I got too spooked to keep writing down to the marrow:

"The Means of Production

There are two kinds of “onslaughts of fucking” that can occur after a trip to the Family Planning section of your local pharmacy. The first is what I like to think of fondly as, “the good kind,” and requires no explanation. The second, or “the bad kind,” is what happens when you are a woman and your pharmacy has run out of contraceptive sponges. You walk briskly down the aisle, the Family Planning aisle, that is- let’s be clear, scanning the shelf for the familiar item you have come to depend on. The one semi-reasonable method of over-the-counter contraception that can be controlled entirely by you, and you alone. That requires no consent, technological savvy, math, or due diligence on the part of your male partner, and may, in fact, protect you from any “pilot error” on his part. You scan the aisle again….not there. “Maybe they moved them…” you tell yourself, feeling the cold wash of panic sink your stomach to the floor as you hear yourself tell this micro-lie in the solitude of your panicking mind. You push thoughts of the 1995 disappearance of “the sponge” to the back of your mind… “Let’s see…not mixed in with the condoms, the 4,492 different brands of condoms….no….Not next to the vaginal film, foam or other magical thinking-make-a-wish devices…Not even wrongly shelved next to the basal body temperature thermometers that can only protect you if you are willing to forgo sex during the phase of your cycle you crave it most.”

Hmmm…Not giving up hope just yet, you venture to the counter, and with a slight edge in your voice, you say to the very male and very young and very embarrassed clerk, “I don’t see the Today’s Sponge on the shelf. Do you still carry them?” You think back on the days back in high school and college when you were embarrassed to even purchase tampons, much less contraceptive devices, and would certainly have never dared speak their names aloud. You recall the “beard” purchases that went along with those midnight acquisitions: “Yes, I’ll take one pregnancy test, a box of matches, and a Cadbury Cream Egg." So much for camouflage. But now, the utter nakedness of your question is an urgency hanging in the air between you and the male pharmacist behind the counter, who is a lovely pink color by now, as he musters the professionalism to answer your question.

Pharmacist: "No, they are off the market."


You: "Fuck." "Fuck." "Are you serious?!" "Fuck."



Fuck. A great, nationwide, "Fuck." The "Fuck." heard 'round the world. Why? Because we are all fucked, sisters. We are all greatly and monumentally, Fucked."

American women, like many women the world over, have been experiencing escalating hits to our reproductive freedom in recent years. I do not use the word "freedom" here lightly. When women are not allowed or empowered to control when and with whom we become pregnant, it is one of the gravest forms of human suffering and oppression. Access to birth control that a woman can control herself, is a basic human right. There are very few forms of safe and effective birth control that a woman can buy over the counter, and have complete bodily sovereignty over. The Sponge saves lives. Not only that, it makes enjoyment of sexuality possible for a lot of women. There is no greater turn-off than the constant fear of an unplanned or unwanted pregnancy. Forget giving her a Justin Timberlake/Andy Samberg inspired gift in a box, give her a box of Sponges.


But, as with any fickle, inconstant, oft-disappearing lover, I am now afraid to give the Sponge my heart again. To give it my open hand and my trust. It monthly changes in it's circle orb, and it's love may again prove likewise variable. Paloma Negra, you Sponge:

Ya me canso de llorar y no amanece
Ya no sé si maldecirte o por ti rezar
Tengo miedo de buscarte y de encontrarte
Donde me aseguran mis amigos que te vas
Hay momentos en que quisiera mejor rajarme
Y arrancarme ya los clavos de mi penar
Pero mis ojos se mueren si mirar tus ojos
Y mi cariño con la aurora te vuelve a esperar

Quiero ser libre vivir mi vida con quien yo quiera
Dios dame fuerza que me estoy muriendo por irla a buscar.

Or, in other words,

"At first I was afraid
I was petrified
Kept thinking I could never live
without you by my side
But then I spent so many nights
thinking how you did me wrong
That I grew strong
And I learned how to carry on...
and so you're back
from outer space
I just walked in to find you here
with that sad look upon your face..."

But, I will forgive you, Sponge, sad-look and all, for leaving me high and dry in my hour of need. Twice over. For disappearing and reappearing at the random will of a largely male controlled corporate logic. (Don't they realize women would give up chocolate and Manolo Blahniks, bread, roses, and printer cartridges for a constant, reliable brand of Contraceptive Sponge? Know your demographic, menz!)

I will forgive you, Today's Sponge, because I have to. Me, and the 150,000,ooo other American women you've burned before. Weren't you the one who tried to break us with goodbye? Did you think we'd crumble? Did you think we'd lay down and die?

Oh no, not I.

--------------

"as long as i know how to love I know I'll stay alive"
Remember, ladies. The Sponge doesn't protect you against STD's. Be smart. Do your homework. Ask questions. Be safe.

Info:

Planned Parenthood
Our Bodies, Ourselves
You've got all your life to live
You've got all your love to give
Make sure You survive.

Cry Freedom, Cry/How Can I Turn Away

"How can I turn away
Brother/Sister go dancing
Through my head
Human as to human
The future is no place
To place your better days

Cry freedom cry
From a crowd 10,000 wide
Hope laid upon hope
That this crowd will not subside
Let this flag burn to dust
And a new a fair design be raised
While we wait head in hands
Hands in prayer
And fall into a dreamless sleep again
And we wave our hands

Hands and feet are all alike
But gold between divide us
Hands and feet are all alike
But fear between divide us
All slip away

There was a window and by it stood
A mirror in which
He could see himself
He thought of something
Something he had never had but hoped would come along
Cry freedom, cry
From deep inside
Where we are all confined
While we wave hands in fire
Wave our hands

Hands and feet are all alike
But gold between divide us
Hands and feet are all alike
But fear between divide us,
Slip away
In this room stood a little child
And in this room this little child
She would remain
Until someone might decide
To dance this little child
Across this hall
Into a cold, dark, space
Where she might never trace her way across this crooked mile
Across this crooked page
Cry freedom, cry
From deep inside where
We are all confined
Till we wave our hands

How can I turn away
Brother/Sister go dancing
Through my head
Human as to human
The future is no place
To place your better days

Hands and feet are all alike
But gold between divide us
Hands and feet are all alike
But fear between divide us
Hands and feet are all alike
Hear what I say
Hear what I say
Oh, so be it

How can I turn away
Brother/Sister go dancing
Through my head
Human as to human
The future is no place
To place your better days"

Who By Fire

If Solidarity Fell in the Forest, Would It Make a Sound: (#cnnfail- the whole world is watching YOU, too)

And now, I will translate the last few day's of US headlines for my stalwart readers, not from Farsi to English or English to Farsi, (for that you must go here,) but from complete and utter BS to transparency. Take any newspaper, magazine, or mainstream Internet/telecommunications headline from the last few days and hold it up to the screen- secret-decoder-ring-style. Ready? Go:

"Americans Deprived of Pop Icon/Iranians Deprived of Life, Medical Care, Body Parts, Votes, Loved Ones, Media Coverage"

THIS is what democracy looks like?






(Photo cnn.com)

What Does Solidarity Look Like?

This is certainly NOT what it looks like:

Jackson dies, almost takes internet with him:

"Twitter crashed as users saw multiple "fail whales" -- the illustrations the site uses as error messages -- user FoieGrasie posting, "Irony: The protesters in Iran using twitter as com are unable to get online because of all the posts of 'Michael Jackson RIP.' Well done." The site's status blog said that Twitter had had to temporarily disable its search results, saved searches and trend topics"

Not to mention that CNN, et al. have all but dropped any new Iran coverage (yes, fair readers- the crisis and resistance is STILL going on in Iran, even though Michael Jackson is dead) since TMZ leaked news of the pop star's 911 call. TMZ, CNN, and Perez Hilton- pumping clouds of thick and obscuring Michael Jackson-media-smoke over the already burning streets of Tehran: Just in case ANY news could escape the Islamic Regime based media black-out. Who needs to arrest journalists when you can get them to stop covering real news by distracting them with shiny things?

(AP Photo/Ben Curtis)

This is ALSO not what Solidarity looks like:

Protesters Break Into Iranian Embassy in Sweden.

Truth- I do not know who was behind this. Fact- I am deeply suspicious that this was NOT carried out and motivated by the same masses in Iran who have struggled nonviolently at great personal cost for the last two weeks. Has some violence occurred from some demonstrators in Iran? Yes. Have hundreds of thousands of other demonstrators remained peaceful, holding silent marches, quoting Gandhi? Yes. Has the leadership of the reform movement demanded nonviolence from the protesters? Yes. So- who broke into the Embassy in Sweden? A handful of angry protesters, breaking from what the rest of the Iranian diaspora is peacefully doing? Maybe. But, if anyone here remembers the 60's or is familiar with how state powers often respond to nonviolent resistance, in following this story I advise you to follow the "money" so to speak. Who benefits from world attention picking up a story that Iranian protesters have gone wild and are (gasp) taking over embassies? Who? (Pause for reflection.........) Yes, you guessed it- the same regime that brought you the faked Khomeini Shrine shoe-bomb of last week. Clever trick, if it was them. Undermine the movement. Plant agitators in the nonviolent crowd. Especially because it plays into Western stereotypes of Iranians. Was it them? I don't know. But I know I saw a hailstorm of "stay nonviolent" on Twitter when the story broke.


Think critically, consumers of news media. Practice discernment. (You want a piece of allegorical advice from an ex-Baha'i atheist apostate? Here's a good working (allegorical) definition of prejudice and it's etiology, taken from the Baha'i sacred writings: Thus have their superstitions become veils between them and their own hearts and kept them from the path of God.) I have been horrified at the lack of empathy or common sense emanating from certain quarters of the American media-consumer-bloc in trying to grapple with Iran. People who would normally respond to this level of human atrocity with good-will, decency, respect, and love- have instead exhibited a kind of soul-paralysis when it comes to these events. How is that? What cobwebs are filtering this information from actually impacting people's hearts? Why the bypass around basic human decency to a cool, ignorant apathy?

بنی آدم اعضای یکدیگرند، که در آفرینش زیک گوهرند.... چو عضوی به درد آورد روزگار، دگر عضوها را نماند قرار.... تو کز محنت دیگران بی غمی نشاید که نامت نهند آدمی" سعدی

Human beings are members of a whole, In creation of one essence and soul. If one member is afflicted with pain, Other members uneasy will remain. If you have no sympathy for human pain, The name of human you cannot retain.
- Sa'adi

See how a story fits in with your preexisting narrative about a people or a situation (your superstitions) before you metabolize it completely. See how the absence of a story does the same. Sniff it's bouquet before drinking it down. Because, despite everything, I still believe that people are generally good at heart. So if you find yourself reacting to the situation in Iran without empathy or humanity- without heart, start inspecting what's come between you and your four-chambered, blood-pumping soul.

Stories fitting into current American preconceptions of people from the middle east get more news coverage than stories that exist outside our preconceptions, and they put us to sleep. They do not engage our hearts to feel and act and ask. Iranians feminists? Freedom-lovers? Gandhi and MLK-inspired nonviolent demonstrators? These stories don't mesh well with our superstitions of who Iranians are.

What if this is the face of the next Martin Luther King:



What if this is the face of Gandhi reincarnated:




And what if they don't make it onto the news because this is the only face you can see:

(Not Iranian, btw.)

Or, this:





You better check yourself, American media (and consumers) before you wreck yourself.

---

Worst question I've received so far, over the last two weeks: "This is all so scary- does it have anything to do with the terrorism and the terrorists?"

Uh, no. No, it doesn't. But I'll meet you after this is all over with a a first-grade level history book and the hope you've washed the racist stink off of you. And hopefully, some forgiveness if I can manage it. Inspired by the love I have witnessed again and again in the nonviolent actions of Iranian demonstrators over the last two weeks.

Yes, America, I hold you accountable for where you put your eyes. If you mean it, that you want the world to be a better place and the divisions between the so-called "East" and "West" to come down- that you want to heal from the Bush years and everything that happened before- put your eyeballs where your mouth is. Pay attention to what is happening in Iran. The Iranian people are showing you who they are, who they have always been. Will you believe them? Will you take it in? Will you bear witness?

I'm talking to the Man in the Mirror. I'm asking him to change his ways.

Just bear witness. That's all anyone is asking. Why is it so goddamned hard?

--------------------
Coming up:
It's been a big day in Iran. Human kindness, nonviolence, hope, and determination- still going strong.

Offensive.

#cnnfail:

"iDeskWe have CNN International Bureaus and Reporters all over the World on standby on the Michael Jackson story. www.cnn.com"

The above tweet appeared at approximately 3:20 pm, PDT, Thursday June 25, 2009. The 911 call from his house was made at 12:21 p.m.

Apparently it takes a pop star a maximum of 3 hours (not counting waiting for the ambulance, traffic, arriving at the hospital, and time for it to leak to the press) from 911 call to full CNN global mobilization.

Shame on you, CNN. How many hours did it take you to cover Tehran like you had any sense?

It was around 3 am in Tehran when you mobilized "International Bureaus and Reporters all over the World on standby" because "There is no doubt Michael Jackson story will be Global."

They will be waking up for prayers soon in Tehran. Let's hope you remember them in your prayers. They remember you.

Here's a prayer you remember what journalism is actually for:

The facts of this world seen clearly are seen through tears

The last Revolution, in 1979, was not an Islamic Revolution. It did not start that way. It was an Iranian Revolution- everyone working together, communists, atheists, Muslims, clerics- all with the goal of ending the oppressive regime of the Shah. Azadi.

It became Islamic, largely because the mosques were the only safe place to gather and coordinate. To move forward.

What about Iran now? Today? Bleeding in our arms? Fighting forward, daily, on the streets? Where is it's refuge, it's safe place? Where is the sanctuary of this Revolution?

It is, in part, online- in the sustained, concentrated gaze of bloggers and tweeters and citizen journalists who will not allow Iranians voices to fall to the ground. Every sound- every sound- that is being inscribed into 140 character messages, into YouTube videos, into flickr images, into Facebook and Twitter, into strategy, hope and memory- is the sanctuary of this Revolution. Social media is just one manifestation of the human relationships, untiring discipline, and bonds of community, of love- that are the refuge of this Revolution. I do not use the word Revolution as a prediction or inflammatory reference, but in it's truest, most literal sense: a radical and pervasive change. The Iranian people are taking shelter in the tabernacle of each other. And in the solidarity of global attention. We must not look away.





(Title from Margaret Atwood's Notes Toward a Poem That Can Never Be Written.)