Guest post by Nazli Rahmanian

October 4, 2022

Guest post by Nazli Rahmanian

There is much grief in my heart. In the last two weeks, I have started nearly every day in tears. After the senseless killing of 22-year-old Mahsa Amini at the hands of Iran’s “morality police,” brave young women across my country are taking to the streets, taking off and burning their hijab in defiance of the country’s oppressive laws, being beaten and shot at by brutal government forces. They are invoking Mahsa’s name and chanting “Woman, Life, Freedom!” Meanwhile, I am here in Portland, crying in between my meetings, in the shower, and at night. A reel of scenes of brutality in the streets along with memories of my own old wounds plays in my head. Women of my country have been fighting against these cruel and oppressive forces for as long as I remember. I have not suffered my sisters’ daily suffering for a long time.

I left Iran years ago, but I remember the anxiety and sense of injustice at being harassed and threatened continuously. I remember the first time I was stopped by the morality police as a 12-year-old and threatened by a black veiled woman: “Cover your hair girl! or I will take you to a place your parents will never find you.” I still feel the pain of losing several of my beloved family members to this brutal government. And now I am here, watching my people’s courage in the face of the same old brutality. It looks like an old story but I feel something new and different about it. The feminine has had enough and is emerging with incredible power. There is much grief, and I feel it is the kind of grief that could hug and nurture a seed of relatedness.  

I wrote something last week about the fear and hatred of women, of the feminine. It exists and it exists everywhere, not just in Iran. It is a disease that ravages our civilization and it will not go away until we accept, love, and live the feminine within ourselves. I feel that a part of living our own feminine nature, regardless of our gender, is to opt for living in relationship to the world rather than seeking domination over it. It is the absence of relationship that opens the door to the idea of ownership. Ownership of the bodies and destinies of living beings so that they serve as mere resources for the “chosen few’s” endless quest for dominance. This false story has created and normalized slavery: Slavery of women, of indigenous people of the land, of black people, of those whose sexual or gender identity is different than the predefined “norms,”; of migrants and refugees, and of the living, bleeding Earth herself. The part of us who deeply relates and knows of the Oneness of all Being cannot participate in such atrocities, because it hurts and it bleeds with the suffering of her sisters and brothers, human or more than human. Unless we include the feminine in the story, in slavery we shall remain.

There is much grief, and there is also courage and beauty. Iran’s recent uprising is a revolution led by women and girls and also mostly by quarterlifers. They are in the forefront, demanding back control of their lives, their bodies, and their choices. And right beside them are men. Men whose hearts hurt for their sisters, mothers, lovers. Men who choose love and relating to dominance. Men who are ready to offer their lives for the freedom of women. And many have.

I also have seen and heard so much beauty in the form of art, spoken words, and songs pouring out of people. One is a song called “Baraye” or “For,” written and sung by a young man, Shervin Hajipour. Each verse counts the reasons why people have taken to the streets, and the reason he sings:

“For my sister, for your sister, for all of our sisters, for the friends we have lost on the way, for the future, for the street children and their dreams, for the Sun rising after a very long night, for woman, for life, for freedom…”

Shervin is now paying with his freedom for speaking in beauty. He was detained and put in jail a few days ago.

There is so much grief, and there is also love and gratitude. I want to say “Thank You!” to the women who bravely demand what is theirs and what has been denied them for a long, long time. “I wish that I could be by your side. I love you!” I want to say “Thank You!” to the men who stand by their sisters’ side no matter what the cost. “I love you!” So much love in my heart, sitting next to grief and opening space.

Much has been lost in the last couple of centuries as this modern civilization has lived a divisive story of colonialism and capitalism. The myth of endless economic growth has brought so much destruction to our planet and all Her living inhabitants for the apparent gain of a few. The old story and its empty promises are falling apart. As I grieve the loss of so much that is beautiful and sacred, I hold in my heart a dream for a new civilization. One that is rooted in the story of relatedness. One that cannot be born without the inclusion of the feminine. One that is born from the sacred marriage of feminine and masculine. How sweet the day that women, men, rivers, and trees sing their true song. And the Earth too.

Woman, Life, Freedom!

Listen to Shervin Hajipour’s song here

Guest post by Nazli Rahmanian