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Payam Feili (Photo: Nogaam)
Iran’s government has been increasing pressure on writers and artists over the past few years, but its heavy hand does not strike evenly.
Iranian poet Payam Feili, who is a gay man, is the victim of a brutal system. He was fired from his job, his translator’s house was ransacked, and the censors have shunned him.
Isolated in Iran, Feili has dedicated himself to writing. He says he lives among his ideas, a citizen of his mind: “I’m writing on the edge of crisis but I think I am doing fine. I’ve gotten used to life being full of tension, horror, disruption and crisis”.
Born in 1983, in Kermanshah, a city in western Iran, Feili has faced insurmountable obstacles as an author who, with pen as sword, is fighting back against social, cultural and political taboos. Despite the endorsement of renowned Iranian Simin Behbahani and the backing of one of Iran’s biggest publishers, Feili’s work has only once emerged from the Ministry of Culture and Islamic Guidance with a seal of approval.
Feili’s first book, ‘The Sun’s Platform’, was published in Iran in 2005, but dozens of other works submitted to the ministry have been refused publishing permission. Payam is blacklisted, not just for his words, but for his sexual orientation.
“They refused my books, one after the other, without any explanation. They have a blacklist of authors who are simply not allowed to publish anything. Even my apolitical non-religious works, works of pure poetry, were banned. There’s nothing scary about them, but the state authorities are afraid of everything”
Observing his sharply delicate words falling from the pages of history unread, Feili began publishing his books outside Iran, knowing all too well that he was endangering himself. Officers from the Ministry of Intelligence ransacked his translator’s house and threatened him, forcing him to sever ties with Feili. After gaining notoriety abroad, the company Feili had worked for fired him without good cause. With the odds stacked against him, Feili insists on exercising his right to freedom of speech.
“If you read my books, it’s obvious I have not succumbed to self-censorship. My poems are bold and fearless. I don’t allow anybody, not me, not others, not even the Ministry of Culture and Islamic Guidance to censor my books”
Many are hoping for Rouhani’s presidency to bring around the cultural thaw that characterised Khatami’s two terms. Feili has not been swept up by the wave of hope that has captured his peers.
“Nothing essential has changed. The structure is still the same. It’s a play, a comic and ugly performance. They’re relying on the naivety of people to be able to succeed”
Embittered by 30 years of living in exile within the borders of his country, as a homosexual, and as a writer that challenges the status quo, Feili is now dedicating his time to securing funding to translate his poetry for audiences outside Iran.
“I’ve learned a lot and I know what’s going on in Iran. I know that when my homosexual narrative is woven through my words and there is a Star of David on the cover of my book, the censors won’t even bother opening it to find out what is inside. I just want to be published. I know the audience outside Iran is different, but I just want to be heard”.
This article was reported by Nogaam, a publisher of Iranian books and authors that have been censored, banned or blacklisted. Nogaam relies on donations from readers to publish their books for free download on their website. Payam Feili’s book ‘White Field’ was first published in Persian by Nogaam in London in July 2013. The publisher is currently seeking support to help Payam translate his poems, and fulfil his simple goal of being heard.
I Will Grow, I Will Bear fruit … Figs (First Chapter)
ONE
I am twenty one. I am a homosexual. I like the afternoon sun.
My Apartment is in the outskirts of town. Near the wharf. In a place that is the realm of seashells, the realm of corals, adjacent to the eternal sorrow of the turtles.
My mother lives in the waters. In the remains of an old ship. On a bed of seaweed. Her hair blazes like a silver crown above her head. My mother is always naked. She visits me every now and then. At my apartment in the outskirts of town.
She first crosses the wharf. She floats in the scattered scents of the bazaar. Then she pays a visit to the crowd of fishermen in the seaside cafés. Among their wares, a hidden pearl. And she leaves them and heads for my bed. Of course, along this entire route, she is no less naked.
Poker; that is what I call him. He is my only friend. We met during military training. He is twenty-one. He likes the afternoon sun and he is not a homosexual.
I consider this a threat. I have never talked to anyone about my sexual inclination. In fact, I hide it. Even from my few sexual partners. With them, I pretend it is my first such experience.
My sexual partners are night prowlers. Strangers. Poker is not a night prowler. Poker is not a stranger. And this is chipping away at me from the inside!
Payam Feili
Translated from the Persian by Sara Khalili | This translation appears on Feili’s blog.
Iranians stormed the streets in celebration when his victory was announced, and this giddy optimism also permeated social media.
In the days after the election, there was an opening up of the national media, which has been steadily strangled over the past 8 years, as reporters and journalists tested the new waters to measure where the new limits of censorship have been set.
On July 23 the Iranian Students’ News Association announced Rouhani’s government may lift the filter from Facebook and other social networks, but after going viral, the article was deleted without explanation.
Iranians on social networks have started a campaign called “Rouhani, Mochakerim” [Rouhani, Thank You], a platform on which they seem to thank the new president for everything good in their everyday lives. One said, “I think Facebook needs to have a ‘Thank You Rouhani’ button” for Iranians”. Another quipped, “My phone’s had more battery life since Rouhani won the elections. Thanks Rouhani!”
Blogger Younes is very optimistic about Rouhani and hopes Iran’s relationship with other countries will be improved over the next four years. Younes described how Ahmadinejad’s foreign policies united the world against Iran. He pointed out that the invitations to Rouhani’s inauguration were sent to world leaders signalling that Iran is ready to change its position and open up dialogue with the outside.
Optimists aside, there are also those who are unsure whether Rouhani will be able to keep his promises. Twitter user thebrightriver has criticised Rouhani for the ministries he has proposed to the Parliament: “Rouhani has promised that he will create the Ministry for Women, but he hasn’t even chosen one woman as a minister! It’s good I didn’t vote otherwise I’d owe one to my conscience”.
Mohammad Hosseini Nejad argues Rouhani is not a magician, that radicalism is the biggest threat to his ability to fulfil his promises, and that his policies will only be implemented if all of the opposition factions join together to support him.
Rouhani’s victory has also created space for Iranians to publicly satirise Ahmadinejad. On Friday, Iranian Twitter users ridiculed Ahmadinejad’s government using the #AhmadiByeBye hashtag, and sent an invitation to social media users to attend Ahmadinejad’s Goodbye Party on Saturday, 3 August 2013.
Farzad said, “Ahmadinejad has claimed that he fought economic corruption, but everyone connected with him was involved in the biggest embezzlement in Iran’s history. #AhmadiByeBye” Hooman agreed, “These 8 years have shown me how just one mistake can destroy life of an entire generation. #AhmadiByeBye”.
While the atmosphere, at least on social media, is one of optimism, Rouhani’s road ahead is tough. For the next four years he will battle against the supreme leader and the Parliament to implement some of his more ambitious promises. Despite being a figurehead for Iran when it comes to the country’s public relations, the president has relatively limited power and will struggle to liberalise the country.
This article was reported by Bronwen Robertson and Amin Sabeti of Small Media. Small Media has collaborated with the Munk School on launching ‘Rouhani Meter’, where Rouhani’s policies will be tracked across the first 100 days of his candidacy and beyond.
Attempts to harvest Iranian users web details may be politically motivated, says the Internet giant. Sara Yasin reports
(more…)
With the 14 June presidential election approaching, Iran’s leaders are moving to prevent the outburst of protest that followed the disputed 2009 poll by tightening access to the web and silencing “negative” news. Raha Zahedpour reports
Iran’s state television this week held the second of three presidential debates. Unlike the 2009 debates, no one-on-one debating was allowed. In these debates, resembling game shows, candidates have less than five minutes to talk about their policies on different issues, and other candidates were chosen at random to question the speaker. Candidates were then left with very limited time to conclude after the end of questions.
The eight qualified candidates could not escape Iran’s strict censorship during their campaigns. Iranian state TV censored reformist candidate Mohammad Reza Aref’s speech in a programme broadcast for the Iranian diaspora on 26 May. The recording was halted and not resumed.
In another programme on the domestic Channel One, conservative candidate Mohsen Rezaei was censored for talking about how unemployment devastated a family who lost their children in the war, and were led to suicidal thoughts as a result of pressures from the economic crisis and inflation.
State television censored documentaries made by the campaigns of each candidate — including Saeed Jalili, Ayatollah Khamenei’s favoured candidate — showing that even a favourite could not escape the sharp blades of censorship.
Iran carefully vetted the candidates in this year’s race: Hashemi Rafsanjani and Rahim Mashaei were disqualified from the upcoming presidential election by Iran’s Guardian Council. Hashemi Rafsanjani, 78, was dropped from the race for being too old. Mashaei was disqualified because he promotes nationalism and nationalist Islam — despite being a part of hard-liners faction.
Even before the election’s candidates were announced, Iran’s ruling elite moved to slow internet connections, blocked access to Gmail accounts, and clamped down on circumvention tools. All over the country, Iranians are struggling to access social media, or even check their email.
Authorities have also tightened up web censorship — censoring even influential political figures close to the government. A blog belonging to one of Rafsanji’s advisors was blocked recently. The move raised eyebrows, because Hashemi Rafsanji is key revolutionary figure, a former president, a former head of Parliament and the current chairman of the Expediency Discernment Council of Iran.
Iran also shut down sites aligned to presidential hopeful Efandiar Rahim Mashaei.
Meanwhile, Ahmadi Moghadam, the chief commander of Police, said that the authorities would not allow any distractions around the election. Following the announcement, jailed journalists and bloggers who were released after being imprisoned and sentenced after the 2009 uprising were arrested once more. Former presidential candidates Mir Hossein Mousavi and Mehdi Karroubi are still under house arrest.
Iran’s press has also faced enormous challenges in reporting on the election. The ministry of Culture and Islamic Guidance invited journalists to a seminar about what could be reported. Officials emphasised that “negative news” should not be published. Subsequently, some papers received official notices for their content. The websites of reformist newspapers Mardom Saalaary and Bahar were blocked, even though print editions of the newspapers continued to be distributed
In light of restrictions, rights organisations have cast doubt on the election’s freedom. In a 24 May statement Human Rights Watch asked, “How can Iran hold free elections when opposition leaders are behind bars and people can’t speak freely?”
Raha Zahedpour is a journalist and researcher living in London. She writes under a pseudonym