By Roxana Safipour
Massachusetts Institute of Technology ( M.I.T. )
On September 11th, 2001, democracy came under attack. I’m not talking about the terrorist attacks. The terrorist attacks were horrific crimes on a scale previously unimaginable. The thousands of lives lost that day are a tragedy never to be forgotten.
But we lost something more that day. We began to lose the principles our nation was founded on. We began to lose our democracy.
Today, the Bush administration is holding hundreds of detainees captive in Guantanamo without due process or the right to a trial. Investigators have been eavesdropping on Americans” phone calls without warrants in a secret program approved by the President. Terror suspects have been sent overseas to a secret network of CIA prisons in countries where torture is allowed. The Bush administration has ignored the Constitution and the rights and freedoms it was meant to ensure. And thousands of brave young Americans who enlisted to defend these rights and freedoms have died fighting in Iraq.
All this particularly frightens me, for I am an Iranian-American. My father escaped from Iran during the Islamic Revolution and came to America, a land where he believed he could be free from tyranny. But today my father watches the news at night and shakes his head sadly. “It’s just like it was under the Shah,” he says. We are losing our freedom in American at an alarming rate.
And now President Bush wants to take on Iran. Why? Because Iran is an aggressor? Because Iran has no respect for human rights or democracy? Because, in spite of the eight year long, horrendously bloody Iran-Iraq war, the two countries were secretly in an “Axis of Evil” together?
Even if you take Bush for his word, nothing could be more far from the truth. Clearly, Mr. Bush has never been to Iran. I have.
I have been to Iran. What I saw was indeed a country without freedom. A country where I had to wear a long coat and head scarf just to go outside, even if it was 100 degrees. But I also saw a country that is on the brink of change.
Every young person I met there thought I was so cool just because I was from America. Teenagers asked to see my passport and stared at in with envy. College students asked me for advice on getting a visa to come study in America. A young police officer let us double park just because we were visitors from America. My cousins watched illegal American satellite television at home and played illegal American music in the car. It seemed like every kid in Iran wanted to be an American.
I experienced people from different walks of life who had aspirations of being free of strict religious laws and longed for the ability to live in a democratic country. Their desire for change was tangible, but in certain way it was ironic given the rapid erosion of democracy in America.
Every young person wanted reform. In another decade or so, when these young people are running the country, Iran will change. It will change because that’s what the people in my generation want right now, and as soon as they are old enough to be in power, they will begin the long process of building a democracy.
But what if America starts bombing Iran? What if we try to invade Iran? As in any war, many, many civilians will be inadvertently killed. And for every civilian killed, there are sons, daughters, cousins, brothers, and sisters who will look at the blood and death and destruction and see the American flag flying on top.
And their love for America will instantly disappear, replaced by grief and hatred. They will hate everything America stands for. And they won’t try to build democracy anymore.
America was founded on the principles of democracy, and America represents democracy. But what kind of a representative are we? If democracy is about choice, how can we believe it is moral to force democracy with bombs and guns? If democracy is about freedom from tyranny, how can we believe it is justified to defend democracy with secrecy and torture?
Every time a prisoner is “aggressively interrogated” (tortured), every time an FBI agent secretly wiretaps a phone call, every time a suspect is denied the right to a trial, a small piece of democracy dies.
We have a responsibility to show the rest of the world that democracy can work. We have to prove that a nation can thrive while still maintaining the basic principles of human rights and freedom. The future of countries like Iran depends on our ability to uphold democracy as a viable form of government.
And of course, more than anything, our own future depends on it. Our future as a free and democratic nation is at stake.
The whole world is watching us. We can’t afford to let them down.
Roxana Safipour
Undergraduate Student
Massachusetts Institute of Technology