30 Oct 24 | Iran, Middle East and North Africa, News and features
Rap is not a crime. Calling for human rights and democracy is not a crime. Standing up in solidarity with the courageous women who took to the streets to protest their rights is not a crime. Yet, the fact that such basic truths need to be stated is a damning reflection of the current state of affairs in Iran. My family knows this harsh reality all too well. My cousin, the renowned rapper Toomaj Salehi, remains unjustly imprisoned.
Two years ago today, Toomaj was arrested. Due to the opaque nature of the Iranian justice system, we only know what has been communicated through the state’s propaganda channels. The Public and Revolutionary Prosecutor of Isfahan, Seyed Mohammad Mousavian, listed my cousin’s charges as “propaganda against the regime, cooperation with hostile states, and establishing an illegal group with the intention of disrupting national security.” Speaking to the Mizan News Agency, Mousavian added: “The accused played a key role in creating disturbances and inviting and encouraging the recent disturbances in Isfahan province and in Shahinshahr city.”
For our family, translating statements like these have become second nature. Simply put, the Islamic Republic’s power rests on inconsistency, vagaries and arbitrariness, instilling fear in the people. But voices like Toomaj, who declare “we are not afraid of you and stand with women demanding basic human rights” have shaken that foundation. They arrested him due to his influence and courage and because his music was seen as a threat. For the authorities, his prominence meant that if they could silence him, they could silence anyone.
But they underestimated my cousin.
Toomaj has always been outspoken, never backing down from telling the truth. While many Iranian artists use metaphors to cloak their criticism, Toomaj’s music speaks plainly and directly. His words shine a light on the reality that many cannot name. He always seeks to be clear and easily understood by everyone. This clarity was a reason he was popular and a reason he has been targeted.
His arrest two years ago wasn’t his first. On 13 September 2021, Toomaj was arrested at his home on charges of “insulting the Supreme Leader” and “propaganda against the regime”, following the release of his song Mouse Hole, which called out the “corporate journalist, cheap informer, court artist” who support the regime’s persecution of dissidents. He was released on bail on 21 September 2021 and one of the first things Toomaj did was record a music video, filmed outside the prison he had been held in.
Justice in Iran comes in waves – dark then light then dark – and our fight for Toomaj is no different. After his second arrest on 30 October 2022, he was sentenced to prison in July 2023. He was then released from Isfahan Central Prison on 18 November 2023 on bail, only for the darkness to return when he was rearrested less than two weeks later after he told the world about the torture and mistreatment he received.
Then in April 2024 we received the news that everyone who has a family member in prison dreads – reports that Toomaj was facing the death sentence. The light came when this was overturned by the Supreme Court but the bulb is flickering. He remains in prison facing new charges as the regime still intends to keep him imprisoned for as long as possible.
We are one of the thousands of families forced into campaigning for our loved one’s release after the brutal clampdown following the protests that erupted after the death of Mahsa Amini while in custody. Many have been robbed of the hope of ever seeing their family members again as a number of protesters have been executed by the regime. At a time when women risked everything to demand their rights, Toomaj knew standing alongside them was the only right thing left to do and that his music and visibility could bring more attention to their courage. This is why the regime has been so threatened and so willing to persecute him – holding him in solitary confinement, torturing him, threatening him with the death sentence and withholding medical treatment.
Toomaj’s resilience is unshakable, fueled by his unwavering pursuit of freedom. It is this vision that gives him the strength to keep fighting, no matter the obstacles. It is now up to the international community to stand up and exert pressure on Iran to demand his immediate release. The world must not remain silent – it must speak out like my cousin did when he saw wrongdoing and injustice.
23 Jun 22 | News and features, Russia, Ukraine, Volume 51.02 Summer 2022, Volume 51.02 Summer 2022 Extras
Artistic director of the Mariinsky Theatre Valery Gergiev at the opening of the Zaryadye Concert Hall. Photo: www.kremlin.ru
Since the war started, Ukraine has become a magnet for the global media. As the war has progressed, its voice has become stronger in cultural matters, too. Ukraine has emerged from the shadows of its murderous “brother” and thrust itself into the western imagination, bleeding, yet stoic, full of raw emotion. It stopped being “the Ukraine”. “Kiev” became “Kyiv.”
Western intellectuals and the public suddenly started browsing Wikipedia pages on Ukraine’s history, trying to dissect reasons for its obstinance in the face of the enemy.
The Russia-Ukraine war has many layers. It’s a war of democracy versus authoritarianism. It is a war of blatant propaganda versus principled journalism. It is also a classical colonial war of a metropolis against one of its former subjects. A liberation struggle, extending into the realm of history and culture.
There’s a growing consensus among Ukraine’s cultural elites that this war should become a point of no-return for Russia trying to impose its imperial blueprint on the perception of history and culture of this region, both domestically and internationally.
In the early days of the war, as the first Russian rockets hit the Ukrainian capital, Ukrainian Institute, a young state institution with a mandate to promote Ukraine’s standing in the world through cultural diplomacy instruments, published a manifesto, calling on international partners to stop cooperation with Russia’s state cultural institutions. Similar to weaning itself off Russian energy, the West needs to stop thoughtlessly consuming Russian cultural products, without contextualising them, the Institute said.
As Russian artillery pound Ukrainian cities, London’s leading museums continue feeding the narrative about great Russian culture and history to their audiences. “Fabergé in London: Romance to Revolution”opened at the V&A shortly before the invasion. It profiles “craftsmanship and luxury” of Carl Fabergé, the jeweller of the Russian imperial family. The backdrop of the story is Russia’s imperial history and close ties between both monarchies.
There has since been a pivot. British museums are suddenly showing more willingness towards giving Ukraine agency. London’s National Gallery reviewed its stance on a Degas canvas in its permanent collection, depicting a swirl of dancers in a distinctly Ukrainian traditional attire. “Russian Dancers” became “Ukrainian Dancers”. Tate Modern is currently working on a new exhibition project with Ukraine as its focus, the first of its kind in its history.
Ukraine’s cultural elites and scholars worldwide are determined to seize this moment and to shift the paradigm where imperial hierarchies persist. As it has stood the histories of big countries, mostly former empires, and their cultural figures and phenomena matter more than those of their colonial subjects. This explains why there are so few centres for Ukrainian Studies in the UK (Cambridge being the notable exception), so few translations of Ukrainian literature. No exhibitions in major museums, up until now.
“We cannot cancel Russian culture.” “Pushkin cannot be held responsible for Putin.” “We cannot exclude Russian artists from being invited to residencies and collaborative projects.” “It’s illiberal.” “It smacks of censorship.” These are the arguments often deployed by many intellectuals and creatives in the West. Let us address these concerns one by one.
Placing Russia at the centre of any cultural conversation should not happen without clear articulation of the fact that Russia has used culture for the purposes of aggressive political propaganda internationally. Culture is a broad reflection of the society it represents, and currently Russian society stands largely united behind an ideology promoting violence and blatant untruths.
The new consensus should go beyond the outcome of the Ukraine-Russia conflict and should be about realisation that cultural discourse is unfairly skewed in favour of big and powerful countries, denying many voice and agency. And Ukraine is not alone here.
Our perception of one’s culture is often shaped by a sheer fact of its presence on the cultural scene: through books, theatre productions, films and exhibitions. We often forget that there’s a powerful state machinery propping up this presence and that rogue states – and Russia has become one – weaponise culture and history to political ends, and even use them as a pretext to start a war. To be remembered, the Russian intent behind the killings in Ukraine is to “de-Nazify” the country.
Artists and academics often lack a toolkit to study and bring to the fore cultures previously absent from the discourse. These cultures are absent or underrepresented not for the reasons of uninteresting or lacking value. They are absent because of entrenched cultural hierarchies, intellectual laziness, lack of courage to work with original sources, as well as a long history of suppression of their culture and language by the metropolis.
It is intellectually dishonest and arrogant to place Ukrainian and “good” Russian artists on the same footing by inviting them to speak at the same panel discussion or to apply for funding, for the sake of “reconciliation” and “dialogue”. There can be no reconciliation while the war is still on. It can only start happening after Russia has admitted its guilt and paid reparations for the damage done. Any other framework would mean perpetuation of the colonial discourse.
For another view, read Maria Sorenson’s article as she calls for artists to unite in their opposition to authoritarian regimes and an end to the blanket boycott of Russian culture.
26 Nov 20 | News and features, What the Fuck!?
[vc_row][vc_column][vc_single_image image=”115655″ img_size=”full” add_caption=”yes”][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text]In this episode, Index’s associate editor Mark Frary talks to musician, poet and activist Penny Rimbaud, who founded anarchistic punk band Crass in the 1970s.
He talks about why the battle isn’t against Donald Trump but against all US presidencies and why the British are the most repressed in the world. He says the Sex Pistols and the Clash were only playing at being angry.
He also. says everyone should change their name, as he did, and why his poetic namesake is the inspiration behind his new album, Arthur Rimbaud in Verdun, now out on One Little Independent Records.
The high-concept album is based on a fiction constructed by Penny which places the French poet Arthur Rimbaud (who died in 1891) at the historic and tragic battle of Verdun in 1916. It is influenced by the sounds of John Coltrane and the visuals of Jackson Pollock.
Index on Censorship’s What the Fuck!? podcast invites politicians, activists, journalists and celebrities to talk about the worst things going on in the world, why you should care and why you should swear.
Listen to the launch episode with British artist Alison Jackson, famous for her fake photos of politicians and the royal family as she talks about the phenomenon of Donald Trump. The second episode features Harry Potter actor Natalia Tena, who talks about how she became aware of female genital cutting, a practice that affects more than 200 million girls and women around the world.
[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][three_column_post title=”You may also want to read” category_id=”581″][/vc_column][/vc_row]
17 Sep 20 | News and features
[vc_row][vc_column][vc_single_image image=”114914″ img_size=”full”][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text]
Mehdi Rajabian is once again facing imprisonment. His crime? Including women’s voices in his music.
Rajabian is a musician in Iran, where women’s behaviour and expression – including their ability to sing in public or record their songs – is severely limited by the regime. But Rajabian has been determined to defy the authorities’ efforts to intimidate him, repress his art, and silence women’s voices. “I need female singing in my project,” Rajabian told Index on Censorship from his home in the northern city of Sari. “I do not censor myself.”
In August, Rajabian was summoned by the security police, who arrested him and took him to court. He was handcuffed and brought in front of a judge, who told him that the inclusion of women’s voices in his project “encouraged prostitution”. Rajabian was held in a prison cell for several hours but was able to post bail with the help of his family. He remains on probation and banned from producing music.
It is not the first time that the 30-year-old has faced imprisonment for his art. He spent three months blindfolded in solitary confinement in 2013, and was subsequently sentenced to six years in prison. He was released at the end of 2017 after undertaking a 40-day hunger strike. “I was completely sick after the hunger strike,” he explained. “When a prisoner goes on hunger strike, it indicates that he is preparing to fight with his life, that is, he has reached the finish line.”
After his release, Rajabian continued to make music and last year his album Middle Eastern was brought out by Sony Music. Every track on the album, which features more than 100 artists from across the Middle East, is accompanied by a painting by Kurdish artist and Index on Censorship award-winner Zehra Doğan.
But now Rajabian says that the pressure on him has become so great that it is extremely difficult for him to be able to collaborate with other musicians and to finish his next album. In August, a music journalist was arrested and detained in Evin Prison for several days after mentioning women’s music and referring to Rajabian in an article.
“Artists and ordinary people [in Iran] are all afraid to even talk to me,” he says. “I have been completely alone at home for years. Coronavirus days are normal for me.”
At home alone, he reads, watches films, and listens to music by John Barry. “I am currently reading Alba de Céspedes y Bertini’s books,” he told Index. But he spends most of his time reading philosophy. He believes that his interest in philosophy is one of the reasons why his music has been so targeted by the regime.
“The Iranian regime is not afraid of the music itself, it is afraid of the philosophy and message of music,” Rajabian explains. “Artists who do not have philosophy in their art are never under pressure.”
What does Rajabian believe the future has in store for him? “You can’t predict anything here. I am ready for any event and reaction,” he says. “But I still believe that we must fight and stand up”.
“I will continue to work, even if I return to prison,” he says. “I know that there is a prison sentence and torture for me, but I will definitely complete and publish [the album]. In Iran, making music is difficult for me because of the bans, but I have to make it.”
“Encourage banned artists,” Rajabian concludes. “They are not encouraged in their own countries. Be their voice.”
[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][three_column_post title=”You might also like to read” category_id=”71″][/vc_column][/vc_row]
