Neda's Voice

Updated 23 June

Neda Agha Soltan

1982-2009

I created this site to preserve the memory of the young lady I first wrote about on Medius Oriens, and whom we all know as Neda. The advent of social media, including the sites of Twitter and YouTube, has meant we have been able like never before to grieve with those struggling against tyranny. Since the Iranian presidential election of 2009 on June 12, millions around the world have tuned in to watch events unfold, as thousands of passionate Iranian individuals have coalesced around a common hope. What started as a cry for a re-count of a stolen election led to a demand for a re-vote. Some are now calling for an entirely new constitution.

What the drama of the so-called Green Revolution has thus far shown us is the indefatigable longing for freedom in the hearts of men and women living under repressive regimes. The story of Neda may, as I expect, become the story of this movement. Neda was just a young lady living in an otherwise beautiful nation with an unparalleled culture. We don’t know anything else about her except that she was standing with her father in protest of their totalitarian government. A gunman shot her straight in the heart for it. Since she has become the iconic image of the Green Revolution, many have written blogs and articles with all manner of theories attempting to explain this girl’s ‘faked death’. I won’t even give place for discussing them here. Disgraceful comments, which are no more dignified than the propaganda the government specializes in, deserve no response. But what I do wish is to republish two posts from Medius Oriens where I first mentioned Neda. The first shows the video that has now been seen round the world, with some comment. The second post titled, ‘Neda was my sister’ reprints a letter that has also been seen round the world. About the latter: I have been bombarded with nasty letters from people who clearly have no imaginative ability of their own. They have written to chide me for posting such a letter when I could not furnish proof that this was indeed Neda’s sister. One writer even went so far as to reconstruct events to show where this letter originated from, and how he could prove it was a fake. I’m not interested in discussing these imbecilic thoughts either. I have not claimed this was a letter from the very sister of Neda. Rather, in good Persian form, this letter speaks metaphorically: Neda is a sister to us all, first to fellow Iranians, and then and only then to the rest of us. All of that can be found below. But first, an obituary from the Los Angeles Times, and then a poem from Persia’s greatest poet Rumi. In memoriam: Neda.

Borzou Daragahi, Los Angeles Times, 23 June 2009:

Neda Agha-Soltan was born in Tehran, they said, to a father who worked for the government and a homemaker mother.

They were a family of modest means, part of the country’s emerging middle class who built their lives in rapidly developing neighborhoods on the eastern and western outskirts of the city.

Like many in her neighborhood, Agha-Soltan was loyal to the country’s Islamic roots and traditional values, friends say, but also curious about the outside world, which was easily accessed through satellite TV, the Internet and occasional trips abroad.

The second of three children, she studied Islamic philosophy at a branch of Tehran’s Azad University until deciding to pursue a career in tourism. She took private classes to become a tour guide, including Turkish-language courses, friends said, hoping to someday lead groups of Iranians on trips abroad.

Travel was her passion, and with her friends she saved up enough money for package tours to Dubai, Turkey and Thailand. Two months ago, on a trip to Turkey, she relaxed along the beaches of Antalya, on the Mediterranean coast.

She also loved music, especially Persian pop, and was taking piano lessons, according to Panahi and other friends. She was also an accomplished singer, they said.

But she was never an activist, they added, and she began attending the mass protests only because she was outraged by the election results.

When I die…

When I die,
when my coffin
is being taken out,
you must never think
I am missing this world.

Don’t shed any tears.
Don’t lament or
feel sorry.
I’m not falling
into a monster’s abyss.

When you see
my corpse is being carried,
don’t cry for my leaving.
I’m not leaving,
I’m arriving at eternal love.

When you leave me
in the grave,
don’t say goodbye.
Remember a grave is
only a curtain
for the paradise behind.

You’ll only see me
descending into a grave.
Now watch me rise.
How can there be an end
when the sun sets or
the moon goes down?

It looks like the end,
it seems like a sunset,
but in reality it is a dawn.
When the grave locks you up,
that is when your soul is freed.

Have you ever seen
a seed fallen to earth
not rise with a new life?
Why should you doubt the rise
of a seed named human?

Have you ever seen
a bucket lowered into a well
coming back empty?
Why lament for a soul
when it can come back
like Joseph from the well?

When for the last time
you close your mouth,
your words and soul
will belong to the world of
no place no time

~RUMI, ghazal number 911,
translated May 18, 1992,
by Nader Khalili

Neda ندا : A call to every Iranian, posted 20 June 2009.

There comes a moment in every movement when a single event tips the balance one way or another. We do not yet know if the murder of this young girl will be that moment in Iran, but it could be. This video, now being circulated around the world, shows a woman in conservative dress who has just been shot in the heart by a Basij. It is graphic and I warn you to determine your ability to handle it before watching. But there is a genuine purpose in showing it.

Neda is the girl’s name. In Persian (Farsi), neda (ندا) means ‘call’ or ‘calling’. The symbolism is unmistakable. Could it be that Neda, whose death is witnessed on video for the world to see, becomes the rallying call for more Iranians to join the Green movement? Could it be that Neda further emboldens and calls out to those already in the struggle? Could it be that Neda calls out tonight to those who were on the verge of giving up?

We don’t yet know. But we can be sure of this: a regime who murders young women like Neda deserves to crumble.

Read from the doctor who rushed to her side to try to save her:

A young woman who was standing aside with her father watching the protests was shot by a basij member hiding on the rooftop of a civilian house. He had clear shot at the girl and could not miss her. However, he aimed straight her heart. I am a doctor, so I rushed to try to save her. But the impact of the gunshot was so fierce that the bullet had blasted inside the victim’s chest, and she died in less than 2 minutes…The film is shot by my friend who was standing beside me.
Please let the world know

….

Neda was my sister, posted 20 June 2009.

This moving letter was sent out before Saturday by an Iranian woman, translated into English:

I will participate in the demonstrations tomorrow. Maybe they will turn violent. Maybe I will be one of the people who is going to get killed. I’m listening to all my favorite music. I even want to dance to a few songs. I always wanted to have very narrow eyebrows. Yes, maybe I will go to the salon before I go tomorrow! There are a few great movie scenes that I also have to see. I should drop by the library, too. It’s worth to read the poems of Forough and Shamloo again. All family pictures have to be reviewed, too. I have to call my friends as well to say goodbye. All I have are two bookshelves which I told my family who should receive them. I’m two units away from getting my bachelors degree but who cares about that. My mind is very chaotic. I wrote these random sentences for the next generation so they know we were not just emotional and under peer pressure. So they know that we did everything we could to create a better future for them. So they know that our ancestors surrendered to Arabs and Mongols but did not surrender to despotism. This note is dedicated to tomorrow’s children…

Tonight, she writes about Neda:

Yesterday I wrote a note, with the subject line “tomorrow is a great day perhaps tomorrow I’ll be killed.” I’m here to let you know I’m alive but my sister was killed…I’m here to tell you my sister died while in her father’s hands
I’m here to tell you my sister had big dreams…
I’m here to tell you my sister who died was a decent person… and like me yearned for a day when her hair would be swept by the wind… and like me read “Forough” [Forough Farrokhzad]… and longed to live free and equal… and she longed to hold her head up and announce, “I’m Iranian”… and she longed to one day fall in love to a man with a shaggy hair… and she longed for a daughter to braid her hair and sing lullaby by her crib…

my sister died from not having life… my sister died as injustice has no end… my sister died since she loved life too much… and my sister died since she lovingly cared for people…

Note obtained from: Nico Pitney

UPDATE:

Here is the first image from her burial site, which must be posted here since the government prohibited any memorial to take place for her. Only her parents and fiancé were permitted to attend a quick burial, but now the world can pay respects here.

The head stone is a temporary one which is installed on the burial day, but will soon be replaced by a more permanent tribute. The head stone says: ندا آقا سلطان – قطعه 257 – رديف 41 – شماره 32. Burial site: Tehran, Behesht Zahra, grid=257, row=41, num=32.