Not all Muslims think like those few. They are the hard core radicals that have hijacked a religion and their book, the Koran, which is based on the Bible. The stories are virtually the same. There are sections, like the Bible, that are violent - an eye for an eye. Just as Christians don't always take the Bible word for word, neither do most Muslims.
It goes back to the mullahs and imams who are really criminals who use the religion to exploit, control, and grow rich. The majority of the mullahs in Iran are not religious men in the true sense of the word. They murder, steal, and torture. Holy men don't do those things.
The majority of the population in Iran is under 40 and doesn't know any other way of life except the one dictated and taught by the mullahs. The population has been indoctrinated. If you protest or demonstrate against the state, you'll probably be arrested and disappear.
This is a passage from Reza's book that will be published next Spring. He's talking about visiting his best friend who was in the infamous Evin Prison accused of being in the Mujahadine. They also arrested his little sister, who was 14 and his 16YO brother. Reza was in the Revolutionary Guards at the time.
While I waited in the hall for the visit to be arranged, a group of 10 to 15 teenage girls struggled barefoot down the hallway, passing in front of me. They were broken both mentally and physically. Some were in shock. Their faces reflected hopelessness and resignation; some had tears rolling down their swollen faces, some caked with blood.
Then the biggest shock of all: Parvaneh looked up and caught my eye. It stunned me so much that I fell back and had to brace myself against the wall. I hardly recognized her.
Turning to my escort, I pointed to Parvaneh, pleading with him, “That’s Davood’s daughter and he’s here to see her.” But he pulled me aside and told me that the order for execution was already in effect and there was nothing he could do.
I wanted to rush forward, grab her and pull her to safety, but she just lowered her head, totally defeated, and turned away. Tears welled up and I closed my eyes, saying a silent prayer. There was nothing I could do. Not long after that, gunshots echoed through the hallway, scaring a flock of birds into flapping off toward the heavens.
Most bizarre, in the background, azan, the call to prayer, blared over the loud speaker: “Allaho Akbar, Allaho Akbar, La ellaha el Allah … La elha el Allah ... Besmellah e Rahmane Rahim…” God is great. There is no God but Allah … In the name of God, the Merciful and Kind."
Again I felt numb. Desperate thoughts raced through my head. I could not tell if what I saw and felt was real or just a nightmare from which I would wake up and see all disappear.
I forced myself to complete the arrangements for Davood’s visit so he could at least see his other two children. In what seemed an eternity, the visit was finally arranged and Naser and Soheil were led into the visiting room. The last time I saw Naser, he was in perfect health. Now he was hunched over, his arms tightly hugging his rail-thin body, trying to preserve body heat, his clothes hanging loosely. His left eye was swollen shut. His cheekbones protruded so much as to cause his lower face to recede under them. He was just 25 years old, but his jet-black hair had turned white. What had happened to cause that?
His brother, Soheil, looked the same but dragged his foot as he walked. A noticeable scar stretched from his lower jaw across his neck.
Straightening out the collar on my uniform, I pressed past my escort in the hopes of gaining a few private moments with Naser. The guard lifted his hand, attempting to stop me.
“Baradar … You have to stay here.”
Summoning up as much authority as I could, I glared at him and he stepped back, allowing me to approach Naser.
“Naser, I am here with your father. He will be here shortly, but tell me, what have they done to you?”
“Reza, please get Parvaneh and Soheil out of here.”
He knew that he did not have much time to talk to me, so he leaned in and through tears, continued – the urgency in his voice palpable.
“Reza, I can’t watch them being tortured anymore. This is unimaginable hell in here. These Khoonkharha bloodthirsty animals raped Parvaneh in front of me. Reza, Soheil and Parvaneh are innocent. How can God watch this? I pray for my death every second. I can take all the torture they do to me, but I can’t stand seeing them torture my family any longer. They made me watch as they twisted Soheil’s ankle around in a circle. I cannot forgive myself for not being able to protect my little sister and brother. I wish you did not bring my father here … Reza, do something … please get Parvaneh and Soheil out of here.”
I put my hand around his head and pulled him close, whispering in his ear, “I will get them out, Naser. And I will get you out too. I’ll do anything for you. I promise.”
Total shock and confusion. This couldn’t be happening. Shame overwhelmed me. I could not tell him his little sister was just paraded in front of me and executed while I stood by helplessly. And now I was about to reunite a frantic father with his two broken sons, unable to do anything to help them – just cause them more anguish.
When I brought Davood into the visiting area, the sons looked shyly at their father and said, Bebakhshid, Baba jan, bebakhshid … sorry Dad … as if it was their fault. Davood held them both in his arms. All he could do was cry.
In no time, the visit was over. I gently reached under Davood’s arm, saying it was time to go. As we left, I took one last look over my shoulder at Naser, terrified I would never see him again.
“I have to see Parvaneh now. Please take me to her!” Davood said.
Choking back tears, I told him they only allowed one visit and put my arm around his shoulder to guide him out. He didn’t know at the time that his little parvaneh, butterfly, had already flown off.
As we walked out, he turned back toward the prison, grabbed my hand and said in broken words, still shivering, “Did you see what they did to my children? Did you?”
“Yes, Davood, I did.”
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