August 17, 2025 • 34 mins
A personal journey through anger, loss, and exile—reflecting on Iran’s revolution, its missed opportunities, and the lessons of history, carried forward in memory of Ghassem and a generation whose voices still guide us today.
my email address gholamrezava@gmail.com
Twitter account is @rezava
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Episode Transcript
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SPEAKER_01 (00:00):
Hi, this is Reza Sanjide and welcome back to
Philosophy of Life.
First, I want thanks toeverybody who joined me for part
(00:23):
one and for those who returningto part two.
These two episodes, part one andpart two, are about Qasem, one
of my oldest and closestfriends, one of those who shaped
my thought.
Our journey began with thepolitic, almost by accident, in
the middle of the Iranianrevolution, the moment that won
(00:46):
the most significant turningpoints in Iranian history and
culture.
In the last episode, I gave abrief history of the revolution.
I touched on figures likeDoctor, Ali Shariati, whose
ideas laid the foundation forthe first stage of the movement
and how his recorded speecheswere passed hand-to-hand in the
(01:08):
bazaar.
I didn't go into every detail.
If I had, we could spend hourson each event.
My focus was, and still is, thestory of Qasim.
But I also know you can'tunderstand what happened to him
without understanding the worldwe were living in.
There were other moments Ididn't mention, like the death
(01:31):
of Ayatollah Talagani, which Ibelieve was one of the most
crucial turning points of thatera.
These events shaped themovement, even if they weren't
visible to everyone at the time.
Part 2 begins at a difficultpoint in the story.
By now, Qasem is no longer free.
He is in prison.
(01:52):
I had only a few moments withhim after his arrest.
Once, I tried to visit him atEvin, but only parents were
allowed.
Even brothers were often turnedaway.
Going there as a friend wasdangerous.
It could mark you as part of thesame political group.
It was reckless and maybe evenfoolish.
(02:13):
His mother once told me hishands had been broken.
She didn't know why.
On another occasion, I spokewith his father about the
possibility of paying for hisrelease.
It would have cost$50,000, anenormous sum at the time.
We didn't have it, and hisfather refused, believing he
(02:34):
would be released eventually.
This episode will pick up fromthere.
These are my memories of thosedays, the fleeting moments of
hope, and the realities of theIran-Iraq war that were
unfolding in the background.
By the end of my services, Iwould learn the most devastating
news of all.
(02:56):
that Ghassem had been killedinside the prison.
This is where our storycontinues.
(03:21):
I entered in the military on the15th of Horda 1361, June 5,
1982.
A week later, my letter arrived,and within another two or three
weeks, I had to report to duty.
The Iraq and Iran war was stillraging, and the country was
(03:42):
pushing new recruits throughtheir system as quickly as
possible.
What was once four months ofbasic training had been cut to
three, a faster pace fromcivilian life to front line.
My training took place inTehran.
(04:03):
One of the six major militarytraining center was in Tehran
back then.
They called
UNKNOWN (00:00):
,,,,,
SPEAKER_01 (04:18):
and
UNKNOWN (00:00):
.
SPEAKER_01 (04:20):
which two of them was near Tehran.
I was assigned to Serfshish inthe north of the city, which
means I could sometimes visithome.
Thought during those threemonths, I think I only managed
to be at home once or twice.
(04:41):
Training begin with generalinstruction, how to shoot, how
to march, how to prepare, andbased on performance and scores,
we were assigned differentunits.
At that time, there were twomain military forces, Artish, or
regular military, and Sapa, anew force established after the
(05:06):
revolution.
Sapa was still relatively small,while Artish was much larger,
made up of several divisions,Zerahid, the armor and tank
units, Hawaii, which was the AirForce, Daya'i, which was the
Navy, and it was also theRangers, which was the Zulfaqar
(05:31):
unit, the special forces.
I was assigned to Zirahi inGhazvin, the armor division, but
my time in Ghazvin lasted onlythree days before we were sent
to south, to Ahvaz, inGhuzestan.
From there, we were moved bymilitary trucks to a place
(05:54):
called Kushk between Ahvaz andAbadan.
We never really saw Kazvinagain, even though we were
supposed to be part of anarmored unit.
In reality, we barely had anytanks or armored vehicles.
We had trained with G3 rifles,but in Kushk, they handed us
(06:15):
Kalashnikovs, the AK-47s.
Our unit, Gorohan 3, Platoon 3,was meant to be attached to the
last line of defense aroundAbadan.
But when we arrived, wediscovered it had already been
destroyed.
Everyone was gone.
Some had been killed, otherswere in hospitals, and the rest
(06:37):
were missing.
There was no one left, so theyrebuilt the platoon from
scratch.
We were the first 30 soldiersadded, all new.
a new sodvan or lieutenant, anew ostovar or staff sergeant,
and three gorubans or sergeantsled us.
Later, I myself became asarjuke, which is like a private
(07:01):
first class or corporal.
This was the beginning of mypath into the war.
The war changed me.
In the revolution, I had beenafraid.
Afraid of the future.
Afraid of the unknown.
But in the military, the feardisappeared.
When bombs fall directly on you,death becomes part of daily
(07:22):
life.
Once you accept that you can begone at any moment, fear has no
power anymore.
That was my firsttransformation, losing fear.
We learned how to survive in thefield, building sangha bunker
made from deep holes in theground covered with the heavy
(07:43):
railway beams, we call thetraverses, And they were
crawling with scorpions,spiders, snacks.
Those sangares became our homes.
The official military serviceterm was 18 months.
But during wartime, six moremonths were added.
(08:04):
I served 24 months in total.
We moved from place to place.
Abadan, Susangit, Bustan, andNorth Khuzestan near Desvu.
I remember...
the Walfash operation, theWalfash 1 freed Khorramshah, but
later the two, Walfash 2,Walfash 3, Walfash 4, Walfash 5,
(08:26):
and even 6, went nowhere.
We weren't trying to takeIraqi's land.
We only want to free Iran.
But when the fighting crossedthe border, the motivation
faded.
The Iraqis defend the land withthe same determination We had
(08:46):
ours.
That war stilled, and peopledied in between.
The Basij were thrown into thoseoperations, often in mass
assaults.
I can still see them rushingforward, many never returning.
At the front, we leave aboothole circle, 12 hours on
post and 12 hours in theSangher.
(09:09):
Soldiers usually get 10 days offevery month.
Return to Tehran felt unreal.
Life there was normal.
People went about their day asif there is no war exist.
I had just left from battlefieldof full of death.
And the cities no one seems tonotice.
(09:30):
I felt alienated.
Like I no longer belong.
The war was shaping me.
But I never stopped thinkingabout Gossam.
I wanted to believe that aftereverything he would be released.
But that hope ended when Ilearned he had been executed in
prison after the Mujahideenattacked the Iranian embassy in
(09:55):
Sweden.
I still remember the dream I hadof him.
In it, he arrived at the frontin a car with seven or eight
others, all chained together.
He came to me, looked me in theeye and said goodbye.
That was the last time I sawhim, even in a dream.
The military shaped one part ofmy life, but the story of
(10:17):
Gossam, my closest friend, wasalways running alongside it,
even if behind walls I couldnever see through.
The war was brutal, but what washappening to him was something I
could only imagine and fear.
(10:49):
I wasn't the same person when Icame back.
All my hope was gone.
All my dreams had disappeared.
I was a completely differentperson.
Someone who no longer had fear,but who no longer had a goal
either.
(11:10):
I was lost.
You may say, what does all thishave to do with Gossam?
This is a story about him, notme.
and I didn't go into detailabout my time in the military,
which itself would take manyepisodes to tell.
But for the sake of this story,it was important for me to
explain how I came to thisconclusion, that the lives of
(11:33):
people like Gossam were cutshort, and now we have the
responsibility to continue theirjourney.
I thought about Gossam all thetime, what happened to him
personally, felt unbearablyunfair, and it tormented me.
I wanted to defend my country,but at the same time, I didn't
(11:55):
want to fight for the verygovernment that had killed my
best friend.
Inside me, two forces battledconstantly.
Was I fighting for Gossam, orwas I fighting for Iran?
That was my greatest conflict.
I felt myself split in two,never knowing which side was
right.
(12:15):
We were young, We wanted to dosomething good for Iran.
I remember that Ghassem was oneof the rare people in our
neighborhood who truly caredabout everyone, families,
fathers, mothers.
He cared about their struggles,about their future, about the
hardships they carried quietly.
He once said that somehow we hadto help them, and he did what he
(12:40):
could.
Ghassem himself had come fromIraq.
He spoke Arabic fluently.
went to school there, and latercame to Iran, where he also
spoke Farsi and understood ourculture deeply.
He carried within him bothworlds, and because of that he
felt our pain in a unique way.
(13:01):
He knew the weight of poverty,of lost opportunity, of people
who wanted more but had no wayto reach it.
He tried to speak up for them,to build a society that could
hold everyone, and after he wasgone, I felt that we had lost
more than just a friend.
We had lost hope itself.
(13:21):
He had embodied somethinglarger, a vision of a future
that included all of us.
And now, that vision was gone.
I felt horrible, as though theground had given way beneath me.
Meanwhile, my father, who wasblind, needed my support.
I had always worked with him,helping in his business, but the
(13:44):
war and the government'spolicies destroyed it.
He was pushed out, like so manyothers.
My sisters, who were earningmoney at the time, urged him to
retire and stay home, but herefused.
He kept working, even aseverything around him collapsed.
Still, he gave me 50,000 tomans,with the exchange rate then.
(14:08):
It was worth nearly$10,000.
I also saved money during mymilitary service.
I hadn't spent anything duringmy military time.
So this became my savings, myinvestment in a future I wasn't
sure I had.
I tried to open a smallbusiness, a fruit store, but it
failed.
(14:28):
I sold my truck, sold everythingelse, and began to think
seriously about leaving Iran.
There were no jobs.
Tehran's industries hadcollapsed.
The economy was in ruins.
There was no money, and withoutmoney, there was no hope.
The universities had reopenedafter the revolution, but the
(14:49):
competition was overwhelming.
Three or four years had passedsince I left school.
Younger students, sharper andfresher, filled the lines for
the concours exam, and eventhen, only about one-third would
succeed.
My chance were almost none.
There were no private schools,no danishkadeh, no alternate
(15:11):
paths.
There were only a handful ofpublic universities with very
few seats.
I realized I had almost nochance to continue my education
in Iran, but I hoped that if Ileft the country, maybe to
Europe, maybe somewhere else, Icould study again, start fresh.
(15:32):
By then, the war, the collapsingeconomy, and the government's
grip had drained me of any hopeof staying.
Too many forces were pushing meout, and the pull of possibility
beyond Iran grew stronger everyday.
That's when I knew I had toleave.
(16:10):
I was an angry person most ofthe time, even though I tried to
build my life in Germany for 12years, and later in the United
States for another 30.
On the surface, it looked like Iwas moving forward, but inside,
hope had long since died, or atleast that's how it felt.
(16:32):
The loss of that hope pushed meinto a place I never wanted to
be, alienated, detached.
Never belonging.
I didn't feel German.
I didn't feel American.
I felt like I was reinforcing arole I never wanted to play.
Deep inside, I still wanted toserve Iran and the Iranian
(16:54):
people.
But history had unfolded exactlyas we had fared.
I lost so many people, friendswho fought against the
government, who were killed,disappeared, or broken.
Their fate tied me to them.
Because they had died unfairly,I felt their injustice became
mine too.
(17:15):
That connection turned intoanger, and that anger turned
into estrangement.
I didn't want to return to Iran.
I didn't even want to attachmyself to it anymore.
Yet, at the same time, Icouldn't let go.
I kept reading, kept searching,trying to understand what had
really happened.
That became my obsession.
(17:37):
to piece together the missingchapters of my life.
Over the years, my views shiftedback and forth.
For a time, I became extremelypro-capitalist.
Then I swung in the oppositedirection, leaning strongly
left.
Then I came back again, tryingto find balance.
But through all of it, one thingnever changed.
(18:00):
I never lost my religion.
Even when I leaned furthestleft, I still held on to my
faith.
I spent years studying thethinkers who shaped Iran after
the revolution.
Among them, Abdul Karim Soroushstood out.
He was one of the mostinfluential figures in Iranian
(18:21):
culture and politics, evenbeyond the revolution itself.
I read his works, listened tohis tapes, and later followed
his programs when he fled to theUnited States and began
broadcasting from California.
Another voice that shaped me wasDr.
Mohit.
I had been listening to himsince 2002 when Iranian
(18:44):
satellite channels firstappeared.
Later, he was banned andsilenced on most Persian
outlets, surviving only with alimited weekend slot.
Still, I valued his ideas.
He made mistakes, yes, but healso introduced me to new ways
of thinking.
Through his recommendations, Idiscovered Monthly Review and
(19:06):
many other books and journalsthat broadened my perspective.
You may ask what all of this hasto do with Gossam.
This is a story about him, notme.
And I didn't even go into mymilitary service, which would
itself require many episodes.
But I left that out because forthe sake of this story, what
(19:29):
mattered was the connection toGossam himself.
and people like him whose liveswere cut short, leaving us with
the responsibility to continuetheir journey.
I kept reading, keptquestioning, kept circling back.
And slowly, after all theseyears, I reached a point of
clarity.
(19:50):
For the past seven or eightyears, I've held a conviction
different from the one I carriedwhen I first left Iran.
Back then, I left in anger,confusion, and loss.
Now, with the knowledge I'vegathered, I want to return, at
least in memory if not in body,to explain my error, to tell
(20:12):
what happened as I saw it, andto reflect on the confusion I
carried for so long.
That is where my third chapterbegins.
So, to find out what reallyhappened, we have to go back a
little further.
In my view, the shock grew toopowerful and too arrogant.
At first, he leaned on theUnited States.
(20:35):
After all, it was the U.S.
That restored him after the coupagainst Mossadegh.
But over the time, he began toact like he has done it all by
himself.
And after Ghabam died, he reallydidn't have any advisor to tell
him what to do.
(20:56):
He stopped following whatWashington or the Israeli lobby
wanted.
with the same precision asbefore.
There was geopolitical plan onthe table.
Push Iran to weaken Iraq, whoseBaathist government was hostile
to Israel.
Instead, the Shah signed anon-aggression agreement with
(21:16):
Iraq, the Algiers'understanding.
And to me, that was his biggestmistake in the eyes of those
powers.
They never forgave him for it.
At the same time, everyonebelieved knew the Shah was ill
and that his son was too youngto inherit real control.
(21:36):
The fear in the West, as I readit later, was that a post-Shah
Iran might drift left towardindependence and a different
kind of democracy.
So an alternative path tookshape.
Through people like EbrahimYazdi, whom many of us believed
had American ties, the Khomeinichannel was cultivated.
(21:59):
I'm not claiming to possess theclassified files.
I'm telling you how it lookedfrom where I stood and from what
I learned later.
A counterplan to the revolution,designed to keep ultimate
control while avoiding anotherMossadegh.
It felt like a replay of theAfghan script, building
(22:21):
religious networks and schoolsacross the border to check
leftist or nationalist forces.
We didn't know that then.
We were young.
We didn't have the history booksopen in front of us, and the
newspapers were writing adifferent story.
Looking back, Shah Purbaqiyahmay have been Iranian's best
(22:43):
chance for soft landing.
Free election in a year or two,press Vietnam, and end of SAVAK.
But it was too little too late.
The system has already cracked.
The Shah left.
Mohandas Mazargan took office.
The critical power encircled hiscabinet.
(23:05):
Khomeini himself, at first,seems to prefer Qom to rule as
Barja, a religious referencepoint.
Then the circle around him,Beheshti Rafsanjani and the
other, pulled him back to Tehranto build a structure where he
stood above the prime minister.
Propaganda filled the gaps.
(23:26):
I remember a front page.
with a sea of Air Force mensaluting Khomeini, the famous
Homa Faran image.
At the time, people around meargued it was staged or altered.
Whether that debate was fair ornot, it felt like the photos and
headlines were accelerating apre-written story and smothering
(23:47):
Bakhtiar's last reforms beforethey could breathe.
Meanwhile, two realities ran inparallel.
On the surface, Tehran condemnedIsrael.
In the shadows, intermediariesreached out to buy weapons once
the war began.
America aided Iraq.
Israel facilitated arms to Iran.
We were trapped in thatcontradiction, and the trap
(24:10):
snapped shut.
Another wound wasself-inflicted.
The Mujahideen's turn to armsstruggle, bombings,
assassinations, later evencrossing over from Iraq, was, in
my eyes, a catastrophic mistake.
Any state, just or unjust, headsback when attacked with guns.
Their actions handed the regimea perfect pretext to crush all
(24:33):
opposition, including people whonever picked up a weapon.
Much of the broader left didn'ttake up arms, but often wouldn't
condemn those who did.
In the end, ordinary people paidthe price.
(24:55):
If we, the opposition, had keptto a different battlefield, I
believe the story might havechanged.
The real fight should have beenfor knowledge and organization
at the neighborhood level.
Teach, connect, solve realproblems, let people see with
their own eyes.
(25:15):
Our ration book system is theexample I always return to.
We created it so every familycould get eggs, rice, flour,
bread, a fair share in a time ofscarcity.
Other neighborhoods copied it.
Later, the mosque committeesconfiscated our booklets and
issued their own.
(25:36):
Did it matter whose stamp was onthe cover?
Not to me.
The point was to fix theproblem.
That's the politics I stillbelieve in.
There was more manipulation inthose early months, rumors, and
planted stories.
Then came the war.
While Iraq fought Iran, Israelstruck Iraq's nuclear program.
(25:58):
From where I sit now, it lookslike the chessboard was set.
Exhaust both sides, contain theregion, and keep leverage over
whoever limped out of the fire.
Yet something unexpected grewunder all that pressure.
Sanctions and isolation forcedIranians to build for
themselves.
(26:19):
Music, cinema, industry,defense...
Slowly, an infrastructureappeared.
Later, through Qasem Soleimani,Iran built regional networks of
resistance across Lebanon,Syria, Iraq, Yemen, teaching
others how to survive asymmetricwars.
You can hate it, you can praiseit, but you can't deny it
(26:42):
changed the country's sense ofindependence.
All of this is how I now makesense of that era, the Shah's
missteps.
Outer missteps, four in handpushing from the edges, and a
nation that learned painfully tostand up inside a storm.
If Gossam were alive, I think hewould have reached many of the
(27:05):
same conclusions, probablysooner than me.
He was sharper.
I imagine him telling me, asalways, to go back to the
neighborhood, to the problem youcan actually solve, and start
there.
And that's still where I standtoday, not aligned with
everything the government does,but very much aligned with the
(27:27):
idea that a people must be ableto defend themselves and that
the surest path to real changeis to keep teaching, keep
organizing, and keep solving thereal everyday problems right in
front of us.
Dr.
Saroosh was once asked if,looking back, he would still
(27:47):
have voted for a new regime orif he would have stayed with the
Shah's system.
His answer was definitive.
Yes, he would still choose a newregime.
He admitted that many mistakeswere made, but he believed there
were also many good things thathappened after the Shah and that
the Shah's rule was marked bystagnation and corruption.
(28:10):
I do not fully agree with Dr.
Soroush.
My own heart leans more towardthat could have been under
Shaupur Bakhtiar.
I wish it has been him guidingthe country, not the revolution,
not Khomeini with his circle.
But that didn't happen.
It's long gone.
(28:32):
More than 40 years passed.
And we have to accept thereality of what has been already
taking place.
We must digest what was done,the good and the bad, and we
must honor the many good peoplewho died, like Qasim, and many
others I knew who were just assharp, just as good, maybe even
(28:55):
better.
But this is the past, alreadywritten.
Their lives, their goals, andtheir achievements should light
our path to succeed.
So what does it remain?
The solution today is not torepeat the mistake we made in
1357 or 1979.
(29:16):
Revolution.
Each time we thought revolutionwas the path to democracy, swoop
away the government, swoop awayall the institutions, and
something better would grow, wewere mistaken.
That lesson must stay with us.
(29:36):
I have listened to Taliq-eShafaa-e Iran, the Iranian oral
history, a podcast by Dr.
Habib Lajavardi, With a longinterview of those who served
the Shah government and thosewho stood outside it, even
people like Masood Rajavi, whatemerged is complicated.
(29:58):
Many good people served in theShah government, in the
military, in defense, inbanking, in industry, people who
work hard to build Iran, evenwith the constraint.
Here, I must thank Dr.
Lajavadi for the phenomenal jobhe did to preserve this history
(30:18):
for Iranian people.
Every Iranian should listen tothis, learn from historical
events.
Not all of them were corrupt orcruel.
Some made the best decisionsthey could for the country, and
their work deserves to beremembered.
The same is true now.
(30:39):
There are good people in thisgovernment too.
People trying to move in theright direction, to serve rather
than exploit.
Our responsibility, especiallythose of us who live through
mistakes, is to accept themopenly.
We were wrong in many decisions.
We must admit it.
(30:59):
We must learn to fix what isfixable.
And when it is not, then we mustat least keep studying, keep
reading, keep teaching.
so that knowledge clears the wayfor those who come after, even I
was wrong many times.
In 2009, during the Mousavimovement, I thought perhaps this
(31:21):
was a chance for change.
But I began to see that so muchof the opposition direction was
coming from Washington, D.C.,not from the needs of the
Iranian people.
When I spoke out about this evento Dr.
Mohit, He accused me of sidingwith Khamenei, which was never
(31:42):
true.
I was simply telling them what Isaw, corruption within the
opposition itself.
That was another painful lesson.
So today, Iran is again at aturning point.
The opposition must decide, willit follow the son of the Shah?
Is that really serious?
Or will it follow the realIranian people who want
(32:02):
technology, investment, growth,and dignity?
Because the truth is, When wecame together during the
revolution, we did buildsomething.
Society, culture, networks ofcare.
That is what can be built again,but only if we avoid all
mistakes, stand together, andchoose a path rooted in Iran
(32:25):
itself, not dictated fromoutside.
One of the reasons I began thispodcast was to explore this
message in the language of thephilosophy of life.
That was my purpose from thestart.
I first tried back in 2017, butit was difficult.
Each episode takes hours uponhours of work, time that is hard
(32:48):
to find when you already worklong hours.
And I still do.
But I felt this was necessary.
This podcast is my way ofbringing out a message that I'm
certain Asim, if he were alive,would have carried forward
himself.
It is his message and themessage of people like him.
(33:11):
What you are listening to now,what you are reflecting on, is
in truth what revolution wasmeant to be about.
Not only politics, not onlystruggle, but the shaping of how
we live and what we believe lifeshould mean.
Thank you for listening.
Until next time, be thoughtful,be aware.
(33:35):
and never forgot the history isnot only written in the book.
It's lived, often quietly, longbefore it's ever told.
SPEAKER_00 (34:08):
Thank you for watching!
Hi, this is Reza Sanjide and welcome back to
Philosophy of Life.
First, I want thanks toeverybody who joined me for part
(00:23):
one and for those who returningto part two.
These two episodes, part one andpart two, are about Qasem, one
of my oldest and closestfriends, one of those who shaped
my thought.
Our journey began with thepolitic, almost by accident, in
the middle of the Iranianrevolution, the moment that won
(00:46):
the most significant turningpoints in Iranian history and
culture.
In the last episode, I gave abrief history of the revolution.
I touched on figures likeDoctor, Ali Shariati, whose
ideas laid the foundation forthe first stage of the movement
and how his recorded speecheswere passed hand-to-hand in the
(01:08):
bazaar.
I didn't go into every detail.
If I had, we could spend hourson each event.
My focus was, and still is, thestory of Qasim.
But I also know you can'tunderstand what happened to him
without understanding the worldwe were living in.
There were other moments Ididn't mention, like the death
(01:31):
of Ayatollah Talagani, which Ibelieve was one of the most
crucial turning points of thatera.
These events shaped themovement, even if they weren't
visible to everyone at the time.
Part 2 begins at a difficultpoint in the story.
By now, Qasem is no longer free.
He is in prison.
(01:52):
I had only a few moments withhim after his arrest.
Once, I tried to visit him atEvin, but only parents were
allowed.
Even brothers were often turnedaway.
Going there as a friend wasdangerous.
It could mark you as part of thesame political group.
It was reckless and maybe evenfoolish.
(02:13):
His mother once told me hishands had been broken.
She didn't know why.
On another occasion, I spokewith his father about the
possibility of paying for hisrelease.
It would have cost$50,000, anenormous sum at the time.
We didn't have it, and hisfather refused, believing he
(02:34):
would be released eventually.
This episode will pick up fromthere.
These are my memories of thosedays, the fleeting moments of
hope, and the realities of theIran-Iraq war that were
unfolding in the background.
By the end of my services, Iwould learn the most devastating
news of all.
(02:56):
that Ghassem had been killedinside the prison.
This is where our storycontinues.
(03:21):
I entered in the military on the15th of Horda 1361, June 5,
1982.
A week later, my letter arrived,and within another two or three
weeks, I had to report to duty.
The Iraq and Iran war was stillraging, and the country was
(03:42):
pushing new recruits throughtheir system as quickly as
possible.
What was once four months ofbasic training had been cut to
three, a faster pace fromcivilian life to front line.
My training took place inTehran.
(04:03):
One of the six major militarytraining center was in Tehran
back then.
They called
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,,,,,
SPEAKER_01 (04:18):
and
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.
SPEAKER_01 (04:20):
which two of them was near Tehran.
I was assigned to Serfshish inthe north of the city, which
means I could sometimes visithome.
Thought during those threemonths, I think I only managed
to be at home once or twice.
(04:41):
Training begin with generalinstruction, how to shoot, how
to march, how to prepare, andbased on performance and scores,
we were assigned differentunits.
At that time, there were twomain military forces, Artish, or
regular military, and Sapa, anew force established after the
(05:06):
revolution.
Sapa was still relatively small,while Artish was much larger,
made up of several divisions,Zerahid, the armor and tank
units, Hawaii, which was the AirForce, Daya'i, which was the
Navy, and it was also theRangers, which was the Zulfaqar
(05:31):
unit, the special forces.
I was assigned to Zirahi inGhazvin, the armor division, but
my time in Ghazvin lasted onlythree days before we were sent
to south, to Ahvaz, inGhuzestan.
From there, we were moved bymilitary trucks to a place
(05:54):
called Kushk between Ahvaz andAbadan.
We never really saw Kazvinagain, even though we were
supposed to be part of anarmored unit.
In reality, we barely had anytanks or armored vehicles.
We had trained with G3 rifles,but in Kushk, they handed us
(06:15):
Kalashnikovs, the AK-47s.
Our unit, Gorohan 3, Platoon 3,was meant to be attached to the
last line of defense aroundAbadan.
But when we arrived, wediscovered it had already been
destroyed.
Everyone was gone.
Some had been killed, otherswere in hospitals, and the rest
(06:37):
were missing.
There was no one left, so theyrebuilt the platoon from
scratch.
We were the first 30 soldiersadded, all new.
a new sodvan or lieutenant, anew ostovar or staff sergeant,
and three gorubans or sergeantsled us.
Later, I myself became asarjuke, which is like a private
(07:01):
first class or corporal.
This was the beginning of mypath into the war.
The war changed me.
In the revolution, I had beenafraid.
Afraid of the future.
Afraid of the unknown.
But in the military, the feardisappeared.
When bombs fall directly on you,death becomes part of daily
(07:22):
life.
Once you accept that you can begone at any moment, fear has no
power anymore.
That was my firsttransformation, losing fear.
We learned how to survive in thefield, building sangha bunker
made from deep holes in theground covered with the heavy
(07:43):
railway beams, we call thetraverses, And they were
crawling with scorpions,spiders, snacks.
Those sangares became our homes.
The official military serviceterm was 18 months.
But during wartime, six moremonths were added.
(08:04):
I served 24 months in total.
We moved from place to place.
Abadan, Susangit, Bustan, andNorth Khuzestan near Desvu.
I remember...
the Walfash operation, theWalfash 1 freed Khorramshah, but
later the two, Walfash 2,Walfash 3, Walfash 4, Walfash 5,
(08:26):
and even 6, went nowhere.
We weren't trying to takeIraqi's land.
We only want to free Iran.
But when the fighting crossedthe border, the motivation
faded.
The Iraqis defend the land withthe same determination We had
(08:46):
ours.
That war stilled, and peopledied in between.
The Basij were thrown into thoseoperations, often in mass
assaults.
I can still see them rushingforward, many never returning.
At the front, we leave aboothole circle, 12 hours on
post and 12 hours in theSangher.
(09:09):
Soldiers usually get 10 days offevery month.
Return to Tehran felt unreal.
Life there was normal.
People went about their day asif there is no war exist.
I had just left from battlefieldof full of death.
And the cities no one seems tonotice.
(09:30):
I felt alienated.
Like I no longer belong.
The war was shaping me.
But I never stopped thinkingabout Gossam.
I wanted to believe that aftereverything he would be released.
But that hope ended when Ilearned he had been executed in
prison after the Mujahideenattacked the Iranian embassy in
(09:55):
Sweden.
I still remember the dream I hadof him.
In it, he arrived at the frontin a car with seven or eight
others, all chained together.
He came to me, looked me in theeye and said goodbye.
That was the last time I sawhim, even in a dream.
The military shaped one part ofmy life, but the story of
(10:17):
Gossam, my closest friend, wasalways running alongside it,
even if behind walls I couldnever see through.
The war was brutal, but what washappening to him was something I
could only imagine and fear.
(10:49):
I wasn't the same person when Icame back.
All my hope was gone.
All my dreams had disappeared.
I was a completely differentperson.
Someone who no longer had fear,but who no longer had a goal
either.
(11:10):
I was lost.
You may say, what does all thishave to do with Gossam?
This is a story about him, notme.
and I didn't go into detailabout my time in the military,
which itself would take manyepisodes to tell.
But for the sake of this story,it was important for me to
explain how I came to thisconclusion, that the lives of
(11:33):
people like Gossam were cutshort, and now we have the
responsibility to continue theirjourney.
I thought about Gossam all thetime, what happened to him
personally, felt unbearablyunfair, and it tormented me.
I wanted to defend my country,but at the same time, I didn't
(11:55):
want to fight for the verygovernment that had killed my
best friend.
Inside me, two forces battledconstantly.
Was I fighting for Gossam, orwas I fighting for Iran?
That was my greatest conflict.
I felt myself split in two,never knowing which side was
right.
(12:15):
We were young, We wanted to dosomething good for Iran.
I remember that Ghassem was oneof the rare people in our
neighborhood who truly caredabout everyone, families,
fathers, mothers.
He cared about their struggles,about their future, about the
hardships they carried quietly.
He once said that somehow we hadto help them, and he did what he
(12:40):
could.
Ghassem himself had come fromIraq.
He spoke Arabic fluently.
went to school there, and latercame to Iran, where he also
spoke Farsi and understood ourculture deeply.
He carried within him bothworlds, and because of that he
felt our pain in a unique way.
(13:01):
He knew the weight of poverty,of lost opportunity, of people
who wanted more but had no wayto reach it.
He tried to speak up for them,to build a society that could
hold everyone, and after he wasgone, I felt that we had lost
more than just a friend.
We had lost hope itself.
(13:21):
He had embodied somethinglarger, a vision of a future
that included all of us.
And now, that vision was gone.
I felt horrible, as though theground had given way beneath me.
Meanwhile, my father, who wasblind, needed my support.
I had always worked with him,helping in his business, but the
(13:44):
war and the government'spolicies destroyed it.
He was pushed out, like so manyothers.
My sisters, who were earningmoney at the time, urged him to
retire and stay home, but herefused.
He kept working, even aseverything around him collapsed.
Still, he gave me 50,000 tomans,with the exchange rate then.
(14:08):
It was worth nearly$10,000.
I also saved money during mymilitary service.
I hadn't spent anything duringmy military time.
So this became my savings, myinvestment in a future I wasn't
sure I had.
I tried to open a smallbusiness, a fruit store, but it
failed.
(14:28):
I sold my truck, sold everythingelse, and began to think
seriously about leaving Iran.
There were no jobs.
Tehran's industries hadcollapsed.
The economy was in ruins.
There was no money, and withoutmoney, there was no hope.
The universities had reopenedafter the revolution, but the
(14:49):
competition was overwhelming.
Three or four years had passedsince I left school.
Younger students, sharper andfresher, filled the lines for
the concours exam, and eventhen, only about one-third would
succeed.
My chance were almost none.
There were no private schools,no danishkadeh, no alternate
(15:11):
paths.
There were only a handful ofpublic universities with very
few seats.
I realized I had almost nochance to continue my education
in Iran, but I hoped that if Ileft the country, maybe to
Europe, maybe somewhere else, Icould study again, start fresh.
(15:32):
By then, the war, the collapsingeconomy, and the government's
grip had drained me of any hopeof staying.
Too many forces were pushing meout, and the pull of possibility
beyond Iran grew stronger everyday.
That's when I knew I had toleave.
(16:10):
I was an angry person most ofthe time, even though I tried to
build my life in Germany for 12years, and later in the United
States for another 30.
On the surface, it looked like Iwas moving forward, but inside,
hope had long since died, or atleast that's how it felt.
(16:32):
The loss of that hope pushed meinto a place I never wanted to
be, alienated, detached.
Never belonging.
I didn't feel German.
I didn't feel American.
I felt like I was reinforcing arole I never wanted to play.
Deep inside, I still wanted toserve Iran and the Iranian
(16:54):
people.
But history had unfolded exactlyas we had fared.
I lost so many people, friendswho fought against the
government, who were killed,disappeared, or broken.
Their fate tied me to them.
Because they had died unfairly,I felt their injustice became
mine too.
(17:15):
That connection turned intoanger, and that anger turned
into estrangement.
I didn't want to return to Iran.
I didn't even want to attachmyself to it anymore.
Yet, at the same time, Icouldn't let go.
I kept reading, kept searching,trying to understand what had
really happened.
That became my obsession.
(17:37):
to piece together the missingchapters of my life.
Over the years, my views shiftedback and forth.
For a time, I became extremelypro-capitalist.
Then I swung in the oppositedirection, leaning strongly
left.
Then I came back again, tryingto find balance.
But through all of it, one thingnever changed.
(18:00):
I never lost my religion.
Even when I leaned furthestleft, I still held on to my
faith.
I spent years studying thethinkers who shaped Iran after
the revolution.
Among them, Abdul Karim Soroushstood out.
He was one of the mostinfluential figures in Iranian
(18:21):
culture and politics, evenbeyond the revolution itself.
I read his works, listened tohis tapes, and later followed
his programs when he fled to theUnited States and began
broadcasting from California.
Another voice that shaped me wasDr.
Mohit.
I had been listening to himsince 2002 when Iranian
(18:44):
satellite channels firstappeared.
Later, he was banned andsilenced on most Persian
outlets, surviving only with alimited weekend slot.
Still, I valued his ideas.
He made mistakes, yes, but healso introduced me to new ways
of thinking.
Through his recommendations, Idiscovered Monthly Review and
(19:06):
many other books and journalsthat broadened my perspective.
You may ask what all of this hasto do with Gossam.
This is a story about him, notme.
And I didn't even go into mymilitary service, which would
itself require many episodes.
But I left that out because forthe sake of this story, what
(19:29):
mattered was the connection toGossam himself.
and people like him whose liveswere cut short, leaving us with
the responsibility to continuetheir journey.
I kept reading, keptquestioning, kept circling back.
And slowly, after all theseyears, I reached a point of
clarity.
(19:50):
For the past seven or eightyears, I've held a conviction
different from the one I carriedwhen I first left Iran.
Back then, I left in anger,confusion, and loss.
Now, with the knowledge I'vegathered, I want to return, at
least in memory if not in body,to explain my error, to tell
(20:12):
what happened as I saw it, andto reflect on the confusion I
carried for so long.
That is where my third chapterbegins.
So, to find out what reallyhappened, we have to go back a
little further.
In my view, the shock grew toopowerful and too arrogant.
At first, he leaned on theUnited States.
(20:35):
After all, it was the U.S.
That restored him after the coupagainst Mossadegh.
But over the time, he began toact like he has done it all by
himself.
And after Ghabam died, he reallydidn't have any advisor to tell
him what to do.
(20:56):
He stopped following whatWashington or the Israeli lobby
wanted.
with the same precision asbefore.
There was geopolitical plan onthe table.
Push Iran to weaken Iraq, whoseBaathist government was hostile
to Israel.
Instead, the Shah signed anon-aggression agreement with
(21:16):
Iraq, the Algiers'understanding.
And to me, that was his biggestmistake in the eyes of those
powers.
They never forgave him for it.
At the same time, everyonebelieved knew the Shah was ill
and that his son was too youngto inherit real control.
(21:36):
The fear in the West, as I readit later, was that a post-Shah
Iran might drift left towardindependence and a different
kind of democracy.
So an alternative path tookshape.
Through people like EbrahimYazdi, whom many of us believed
had American ties, the Khomeinichannel was cultivated.
(21:59):
I'm not claiming to possess theclassified files.
I'm telling you how it lookedfrom where I stood and from what
I learned later.
A counterplan to the revolution,designed to keep ultimate
control while avoiding anotherMossadegh.
It felt like a replay of theAfghan script, building
(22:21):
religious networks and schoolsacross the border to check
leftist or nationalist forces.
We didn't know that then.
We were young.
We didn't have the history booksopen in front of us, and the
newspapers were writing adifferent story.
Looking back, Shah Purbaqiyahmay have been Iranian's best
(22:43):
chance for soft landing.
Free election in a year or two,press Vietnam, and end of SAVAK.
But it was too little too late.
The system has already cracked.
The Shah left.
Mohandas Mazargan took office.
The critical power encircled hiscabinet.
(23:05):
Khomeini himself, at first,seems to prefer Qom to rule as
Barja, a religious referencepoint.
Then the circle around him,Beheshti Rafsanjani and the
other, pulled him back to Tehranto build a structure where he
stood above the prime minister.
Propaganda filled the gaps.
(23:26):
I remember a front page.
with a sea of Air Force mensaluting Khomeini, the famous
Homa Faran image.
At the time, people around meargued it was staged or altered.
Whether that debate was fair ornot, it felt like the photos and
headlines were accelerating apre-written story and smothering
(23:47):
Bakhtiar's last reforms beforethey could breathe.
Meanwhile, two realities ran inparallel.
On the surface, Tehran condemnedIsrael.
In the shadows, intermediariesreached out to buy weapons once
the war began.
America aided Iraq.
Israel facilitated arms to Iran.
We were trapped in thatcontradiction, and the trap
(24:10):
snapped shut.
Another wound wasself-inflicted.
The Mujahideen's turn to armsstruggle, bombings,
assassinations, later evencrossing over from Iraq, was, in
my eyes, a catastrophic mistake.
Any state, just or unjust, headsback when attacked with guns.
Their actions handed the regimea perfect pretext to crush all
(24:33):
opposition, including people whonever picked up a weapon.
Much of the broader left didn'ttake up arms, but often wouldn't
condemn those who did.
In the end, ordinary people paidthe price.
(24:55):
If we, the opposition, had keptto a different battlefield, I
believe the story might havechanged.
The real fight should have beenfor knowledge and organization
at the neighborhood level.
Teach, connect, solve realproblems, let people see with
their own eyes.
(25:15):
Our ration book system is theexample I always return to.
We created it so every familycould get eggs, rice, flour,
bread, a fair share in a time ofscarcity.
Other neighborhoods copied it.
Later, the mosque committeesconfiscated our booklets and
issued their own.
(25:36):
Did it matter whose stamp was onthe cover?
Not to me.
The point was to fix theproblem.
That's the politics I stillbelieve in.
There was more manipulation inthose early months, rumors, and
planted stories.
Then came the war.
While Iraq fought Iran, Israelstruck Iraq's nuclear program.
(25:58):
From where I sit now, it lookslike the chessboard was set.
Exhaust both sides, contain theregion, and keep leverage over
whoever limped out of the fire.
Yet something unexpected grewunder all that pressure.
Sanctions and isolation forcedIranians to build for
themselves.
(26:19):
Music, cinema, industry,defense...
Slowly, an infrastructureappeared.
Later, through Qasem Soleimani,Iran built regional networks of
resistance across Lebanon,Syria, Iraq, Yemen, teaching
others how to survive asymmetricwars.
You can hate it, you can praiseit, but you can't deny it
(26:42):
changed the country's sense ofindependence.
All of this is how I now makesense of that era, the Shah's
missteps.
Outer missteps, four in handpushing from the edges, and a
nation that learned painfully tostand up inside a storm.
If Gossam were alive, I think hewould have reached many of the
(27:05):
same conclusions, probablysooner than me.
He was sharper.
I imagine him telling me, asalways, to go back to the
neighborhood, to the problem youcan actually solve, and start
there.
And that's still where I standtoday, not aligned with
everything the government does,but very much aligned with the
(27:27):
idea that a people must be ableto defend themselves and that
the surest path to real changeis to keep teaching, keep
organizing, and keep solving thereal everyday problems right in
front of us.
Dr.
Saroosh was once asked if,looking back, he would still
(27:47):
have voted for a new regime orif he would have stayed with the
Shah's system.
His answer was definitive.
Yes, he would still choose a newregime.
He admitted that many mistakeswere made, but he believed there
were also many good things thathappened after the Shah and that
the Shah's rule was marked bystagnation and corruption.
(28:10):
I do not fully agree with Dr.
Soroush.
My own heart leans more towardthat could have been under
Shaupur Bakhtiar.
I wish it has been him guidingthe country, not the revolution,
not Khomeini with his circle.
But that didn't happen.
It's long gone.
(28:32):
More than 40 years passed.
And we have to accept thereality of what has been already
taking place.
We must digest what was done,the good and the bad, and we
must honor the many good peoplewho died, like Qasim, and many
others I knew who were just assharp, just as good, maybe even
(28:55):
better.
But this is the past, alreadywritten.
Their lives, their goals, andtheir achievements should light
our path to succeed.
So what does it remain?
The solution today is not torepeat the mistake we made in
1357 or 1979.
(29:16):
Revolution.
Each time we thought revolutionwas the path to democracy, swoop
away the government, swoop awayall the institutions, and
something better would grow, wewere mistaken.
That lesson must stay with us.
(29:36):
I have listened to Taliq-eShafaa-e Iran, the Iranian oral
history, a podcast by Dr.
Habib Lajavardi, With a longinterview of those who served
the Shah government and thosewho stood outside it, even
people like Masood Rajavi, whatemerged is complicated.
(29:58):
Many good people served in theShah government, in the
military, in defense, inbanking, in industry, people who
work hard to build Iran, evenwith the constraint.
Here, I must thank Dr.
Lajavadi for the phenomenal jobhe did to preserve this history
(30:18):
for Iranian people.
Every Iranian should listen tothis, learn from historical
events.
Not all of them were corrupt orcruel.
Some made the best decisionsthey could for the country, and
their work deserves to beremembered.
The same is true now.
(30:39):
There are good people in thisgovernment too.
People trying to move in theright direction, to serve rather
than exploit.
Our responsibility, especiallythose of us who live through
mistakes, is to accept themopenly.
We were wrong in many decisions.
We must admit it.
(30:59):
We must learn to fix what isfixable.
And when it is not, then we mustat least keep studying, keep
reading, keep teaching.
so that knowledge clears the wayfor those who come after, even I
was wrong many times.
In 2009, during the Mousavimovement, I thought perhaps this
(31:21):
was a chance for change.
But I began to see that so muchof the opposition direction was
coming from Washington, D.C.,not from the needs of the
Iranian people.
When I spoke out about this evento Dr.
Mohit, He accused me of sidingwith Khamenei, which was never
(31:42):
true.
I was simply telling them what Isaw, corruption within the
opposition itself.
That was another painful lesson.
So today, Iran is again at aturning point.
The opposition must decide, willit follow the son of the Shah?
Is that really serious?
Or will it follow the realIranian people who want
(32:02):
technology, investment, growth,and dignity?
Because the truth is, When wecame together during the
revolution, we did buildsomething.
Society, culture, networks ofcare.
That is what can be built again,but only if we avoid all
mistakes, stand together, andchoose a path rooted in Iran
(32:25):
itself, not dictated fromoutside.
One of the reasons I began thispodcast was to explore this
message in the language of thephilosophy of life.
That was my purpose from thestart.
I first tried back in 2017, butit was difficult.
Each episode takes hours uponhours of work, time that is hard
(32:48):
to find when you already worklong hours.
And I still do.
But I felt this was necessary.
This podcast is my way ofbringing out a message that I'm
certain Asim, if he were alive,would have carried forward
himself.
It is his message and themessage of people like him.
(33:11):
What you are listening to now,what you are reflecting on, is
in truth what revolution wasmeant to be about.
Not only politics, not onlystruggle, but the shaping of how
we live and what we believe lifeshould mean.
Thank you for listening.
Until next time, be thoughtful,be aware.
(33:35):
and never forgot the history isnot only written in the book.
It's lived, often quietly, longbefore it's ever told.
SPEAKER_00 (34:08):
Thank you for watching!
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