Growing Up in Iran

I was attending a physics lecture in the Tehran Technical School auditorium that morning when the door suddenly burst open and a sergeant entered with several soldiers. The Shah granted the university a charter that guaranteed its immunity from such intrusions, but when the lecturer protested, he was simply pushed aside by the sergeant. He soon left the auditorium not wishing to get involved in whatever was going to happen.

“Where is he?” the sergeant shouted. “Where is the S.O.B that shouted ‘Death to the Shah’ this morning? I know he is here! Show me where he is hiding!”

The soldiers spread throughout the auditorium. We were all sitting holding our breaths.

I heard a commotion behind me. The soldiers dragged one of the students to the stage of the auditorium where they started kicking and punching him viciously while he sobbed telling them that he was innocent. I knew that student and he never was politically active in anything. The beating continued for what seemed like a long time. Then a soldier dragged the student’s limp body outside while the remaining soldiers began searching for their next victim. Never in my life had I felt so helpless and afraid!

Suddenly I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was the sergeant’s. My heart skipped a beat. Was I to be next? When I looked at him, he patted my shoulder reassuringly and smiled. He said something but I couldn’t understand him. I realized later that he must have been from Azerbaijan and the language was Turkish. Then as suddenly as the soldiers had appeared, they all left. For a long time all of us sat there stunned. Then I heard hysterical screaming coming from the back of the room.

“Enough! Enough! I’ve had it! I can’t take it anymore!”

A student was standing there sobbing and shaking violently while others around him were trying to calm him so that he would stop shouting. We all feared that the soldiers would return.

Others seemed to be ready to join him. Then it happened. As if by command, everybody started banging their clenched fists ecstatically on the tops of their desks, chanting, “Ehtesab! Ehtesab!” (Strike! strike!) Nobody cared now whether the soldiers would hear us or not. The Shah could have ordered his tanks to come and do battle with us. We did not care! We were not afraid!

Soon the news about the outrage spread to other parts of our building. Everything came to a grinding halt. None of the professors tried to stop us and they quickly disappeared. The runners went to the medical and law schools inviting students to join the Ehtesab. Soon there were crowds of students everywhere. Everything was happening like in a fast forward film. It was as if a dam had burst and a wall of water was rushing onward threatening to destroy everything in its path. We had had enough!

By then I had already recovered from my fright. Certain that there would be no more classes on that day, I decided to linger awhile and then go home. There were several impromptu meeting all going at once. Someone proposed that we should make placards and banners and hit the streets, but we were not quite sure what to write on them. The time had not yet arrived to start a revolution.  None of us suspected that the trucks loaded with armed soldiers were on their way to the university!