Iran Students Teach Us About Freedom

Some pretty important people have died recently.  You might have even noticed it on your evening news or splashed across your favorite blog.

No, not Michael Jackson or Steve McNair (if you don't know who he is your husband will.) 

I'm speaking of Neda and other more anonymous protesters, mostly young people, who continue to give their lives in defense of freedom in Iran.

Neda's death hit us all particularly hard.  She's a strikingly beautiful young woman, and like a lot of young Iranians, torn between tradition and western style wearing jeans and makeup under her hijab.  She can be seen laughing and smiling while chanting with her fellow students in a video taken before the shot came that took her life.  We know her name from her music teacher who is heard crying her name after she was shot in cold blood.

Perhaps it is that we see life leave her eyes staring back at the camera as blood pours from her nose and mouth.  Something about it struck a chord in Iran and around the world and her name has become the rallying cry for the resistance, her martyrdom beginning the cycle of mourning and protest that sparked the last revolution.

The junta's reaction has been predictable.  It was a Zionist/American plot, the doctor who attempted to save her and dared to speak the truth has been branded a traitor and forced to flee the country while the government harasses his family.

Despite the fact that CNN is totally convinced that we need minute by minute accounts that Michael Jackson is still dead, the students fight on.  Under constant pressure their tactics have also shifted.  Now they have co-opted songs and chants of the '79 Revolution which every Iranian knows, but instead of evoking patriotism... they now betray an undertone of subversiveness. 

In short, these students ripped pages from the playbook of their oppressors and turned it back on them.  At night they shout from the rooftops, just as they did 30 years ago, Alluha Akbar... God Is Great!  Ironically the Basiji (religious police) are beating and arresting people for uttering the most common expression in the Islamic world.

And then there's this, students dancing and singing a song every Iranian would know called Yare dabestani... My Fellow Schoolmate.  The last part is the punctuation:

My schoolmate
You're with me and going along with me
The alphabet stick is above our heads
You're my spite and my woe
Our names have been carved
On the body of this blackboard
The stick of injustice and tyranny
Still remains on our body

So while we sat at home stuffing down that last hot dog and waiting patiently for the latest update on MJ's demise, these young people defy one of the most repressive regimes in the world.  They dance and sing at risk of torture and death, powered by something I fear we've lost in this country.

Their defiance has already struck a mortal blow to the Islamic Republic.  The regime may not crumble tomorrow or even this year, but these young people have shown the world that the final arbiter of justice is not a cleric, a king, or any other despot, but the people.

In doing so, they've taught us a bit about our own history on this Independence Day, but also lit the path for the oppressed the world over. 

Regimes whose primary means of control is fear, cannot defeat a people who refuse to be afraid.