Rah va Rahavard (An Experience-Narrative of a Life) by Mohammad Kianoush-Rad – Part Eighteen

Rah va Rahavard
An Experience-Narrative of a Life
Mohammad Kianoush-Rad
Part Eighteen

**Similarity**

Out of fear of thieves, I tied one of my sleeves to my suitcase and held the other in my hand. We did not have enough money. We slept the night in one of the parks of Qom. In the middle of the night I sprang up like a spring. With fear and noise I shouted and ran a few steps from the intensity of fear. A frog had gone into my sleeve. I was half-dead. With my shout, I think he too found the same state. The sleeve I had tied to the suitcase tore. Now I was left wondering what to do. The next night we went to the house of Mr. Rabbani, one of the preachers who came to our mosque, and slept.

It was the summer of 1977 when we had gone to Qom with friends. Me and Ahmad and Mehdi. Mohammad Javidan and Farhad Mohandespour also joined us in Qom.

That afternoon, we saw Baqer Momajjed, one of the kids from Khorramshahr who worked at the "Dar al-Rah-e Haq" institute. We chatted and also got a number of books for our mosque's library.

Then we went to the shrine and prayed the congregational prayer led by Ayatollah Marashi Najafi. He prayed his prayer like lightning. We loved it. I saw a serenity in Mr. Marashi. From that same day I became fond of him.

The next day we prayed behind Ayatollah Shariatmadari. A long line of worshippers had stood to kiss his hand. We too stood. I wanted to give up. Farhad said: "We have stood this long. Let us stay." We stayed. It became our turn. We kissed the master's hand.

After the pilgrimage and prayer, in the bookstores I was looking for the book "Maqamat-e Ma'navi" of Khajeh Abdullah Ansari. I did not find it. I went step by step through the alleys of Qom. I found it in an old bookstore. I told the seller: "Everywhere I went, I did not find the book." The seller said: "How did you dare look for Khajeh Abdullah's book in Qom." I understood the story.

In 1978, a book exhibition had been set up in Abadan at the Isfahani Mosque. We went to Abadan with the kids to buy. I bought the four volumes of "Usul-e Kafi" of Kulayni and the book "The Peace of Imam Hasan" by Al-Yasin, translated by Seyyed Ali Khamenei.

My question was always why Imam Hasan made peace with Muawiyah and Imam Hussein fought Yazid. A convincing answer had come in the book's introduction: "Both Imam Hasan and Muawiyah and both armies of the two sides knew that if the war continued, victory would certainly be Muawiyah's, and in case of defeat, everyone would reproach and blame the Imam. So Imam Hasan preferred peace."

Alongside all the activities, I always considered cultural work prior to political activities. Shariati had said that intellectual and cultural work precedes political developments and revolution. We did study work. With a group of the kids we had started reading the Tafsir-e Nemuneh of Makarem and the Tafsir-e Novin of Mohammad Taqi Shariati at our own house.

The Rex Cinema disaster was one of the most heartbreaking and most ambiguous incidents of 1978. A large number of people lost their lives. The revolutionaries pointed the finger of accusation at the Shah. At that same time, for certain reasons, it was not very acceptable to me, but we had to put the blame on the Shah.

After the revolution, the accusation turned toward the revolutionaries. A matter based on conjecture and speculation that still remains shrouded in ambiguity. Mohsen Safaei Farahani, in a conversation with Hossein Dehbash, has pointed to the involvement of a person without naming him. I do not know what his source is. God knows best. Perhaps in the future everything will become clear.

From the middle of 1978, unplanned movements influenced by the revolutionary atmosphere were carried out by some youths. Everyone wanted to have done something, in their own view. The people too had become restless and excited. Some youths were also seeking to strike at the Shah's regime in any way. The Rex Cinema disaster can be considered the result of an arbitrary movement by raw youths who wanted to play a role in the revolution.

On the eve of the revolution, even some opportunists resorted to looting and plundering public property. For example, the Mitra cabaret at the Khorramshahr three-way burned. Property was stolen, but no group took responsibility for it.

Also the "Shah's Palace"—the current guesthouse of the governorate—was in a similar situation. Precious carpets, expensive dishes, statues and valuable objects, even the faucets, were looted.

The Mohedin group also assassinated the clerical representative of Abadan, Gholamhossein Daneshi. The Mohedin announced: "Whoever wants to be a barrier to the process of the Islamic Revolution and the commands of Imam Khomeini must be destroyed. Today Daneshi, who was a deceitful and self-serving cleric, fell under the wrath of the children of Imam Khomeini." They stopped his car in a staged accident and riddled him with bullets. Daneshi survived and was executed after the revolution.

From November 1978, student demonstrations expanded. The students of Shapur High School, after the school closed, demonstrated. Riding a motorcycle, I distributed a bundle of leaflets among the kids. They and ordinary people attacked a building belonging to the municipality. I told them: "Do not attack the municipality." They became angry. They nearly attacked me too. They broke the windows. That day I learned that starting street demonstrations is possible but controlling them is impossible.

Another day the educators had gathered on the current Azadegan Street, around the Sheikh Saduq Mosque, opposite the headquarters of Sheikh Khaz'al which was destroyed after the revolution. I saw Lotfalipour, the husband of my cousin, an accounting employee of the Education Department. He was saying excitedly: "A few days ago we had a gathering in the city center. A student with a knit hat went from the middle of the crowd toward the bank. He had pulled his hat down over his eyes. I do not know how he climbed over the railings and pulled the plaque that had the imperial emblem from its place and threw it to the ground. The crowd became enthusiastic. The slogans multiplied." He did not know that the young man with the knit hat was me.

We did not study. Our nights and days had become the revolution. From distributing leaflets and writing slogans to destroying banks and participating in demonstrations.

We and the police both patrolled by motorcycle. They to catch us and we to hide from them. Unwittingly we had become similar. They sought to eliminate the revolutionaries and the revolutionaries sought to eliminate them.

When we rise in opposition and enmity against someone beyond measure, gradually we become like him.

To be continued...