Interview with Esmat Abad

When I traveled to Ahvaz recently, I visited the home of Esmat Abad, a religious woman who was politically active in the revolutionary days. She is married, has four daughters, one son, and is also raising the son and daughter of her brother-in-law, who was killed in a car accident with his wife last year.

Twenty years ago, while employed as a lab technician at the University of Ahvaz, a family relation attending Tehran University began sending her the writings and lecture tapes of Imam Khomeini. Her political consciousness grew in conjunction with her gradual religious transformation. The process soon culminated in a political identity that was inseparable from her religious one.

Esmat herself was born into a tribal family after they had recently settled. Esmat's sister, and her oldest brothers, had been born when the family was still nomadic. They settled in the southwest region of Iran so the children could attend school, and also because their father was contracted by the National Oil Company of Iran to process and sell the chalk on their land.

In Iran, where many regions were once dominated by tribal societies, many citizens are members of those clans. There were several large tribes that held considerable power, and posed a serious threat to the central government (in a strategic effort, the last Shah of Iran had married Soraya, who was a member of the Bakhtiari, one of the two most powerful tribes at the time). Tribal identities are still strong today, and anyone from the doctor to the farmer to the housewife will all insist on their tribal identities.

After high school, Esmat moved to Ahvaz to live with her older brother and two cousins. After working at a foreign company as a secretary, she was employed as a lab technician at the University of Ahvaz.

MS - After graduating from high school, you started working. Did you have any hopes of going to college?

EA - Yes, I was accepted at two. One was in Tabriz, but my father wouldn't let me move to another city. I was also accepted into a nursing program, but the profession wasn't very respected back then, and some parents didn't want their daughters to become nurses, including mine.

MS - Were you disappointed?

EA - Sure, but at that time, it wasn't acceptable for girls to leave their families and go to another city for their education like it is now. The standards were different back then. So I told my father, if I can't go to college, then I want to work. And I went to Ahvaz to live with one of my older brothers, and started working.

MS - Were you involved in any political activism before your exposure to the Imam's writings?

EA - Not really, I didn't know what I was looking for exactly. I read books by Samad Behrangi- I really liked his stories- and Jalaal al-Ahmad.

MS - What kind of political activism were you involved in?

EA - I secretly distributed the Imam's recordings, writings, and any other announcements on campus, and in the mosques during prayer time. Later, when I wore the chador, I would carry material underneath it. No one would dare look under my chador.

MS - Were you allowed to wear the chador on campus?

EA - No, not until the very end of the Shah's regime. But I wore the chador on my way to the mosque. I did begin wearing a headscarf and loose clothing at work. Towards the revolution, the Shah's thugs would raid the university and try to force us to take off our hejab. But I wouldn't- no matter what they would do.

MS - You wear a chador now. Did you wear one before the revolution?

EA - No, although my father encouraged me to do so, I didn't. I prayed everyday, and fasted during the month of Ramezan, but I didn't accept wearing a hejab. However, as I began reading more of Imam Khomeini's writings and reading the Qoran, I began to understand the significance and meaning of the hejab.

Even though women were not allowed to wear even headscarves at certain jobs- in fact, at the National Oil Company, women weren't even allowed to wear pants- I began wearing long dresses and a headscarf as my politicization increased. And eventually I wore a chador. I started wearing the chador for political reasons at first. Then, I began seeing how it protects and shields me. It's like a safeguard. I didn't, and still don't believe that the chador diminishes a woman's character.

You see, a woman is like a pearl in a shell. The moment the shell is opened, people come up to it- they want to see it, look at it closely, and touch it. And I reserve the exposure- of my qualities, my beauty- to those I love, and who are very close to me.

It doesn't limit me in society at all, and never has. I exercise and swim, and I take walks. I'm very active.

Not everyone can wear a chador. There has to be an understanding of its significance. If that doesn't exist, there's no use wearing it.

MS - But why a black chador? Especially in Iran, and in Ahvaz, where it's so hot, doesn't it make more sense to at least wear a lighter color, like white?

EA - The black chador functioned as a symbol of protest against the government in the pre-revolutionary days. It had become a symbol of nationalism, not of religion. The chador has many implications- political, social, and religious.

Black is also the only color that doesn't draw attention. However, during prayer, one is supposed to wear a white chador. When you die, in Islam, you are wrapped in a kafan [shroud] that is white in color. When you're praying, you're turning towards God. And when you wear white, you're saying, "I'm ready to come to you at any time".

MS - Well, what about men. Wouldn't you think that they should wear white as well, or does their devotion go without saying?

EA - They do, in Mecca. If you go there, you see everyone is wearing white.

MS - Could it also be that white is the color of purity, and it is usually women who are the upholders of purity?

EA - This is not exclusive to women. During prayer, a Muslim must be clean. That is why we wash before we pray. But I must add, women are the pearls- not the men.

MS - What do you think about sigheh [temporary marriage]?

EA - Personally, I don't endorse it. The original rationale behind it was that when men are far away from their wives for a long time, they have certain desires that need to be met. So they conclude a sigheh.

However, it's a rare situation today for men to be away from their wives for a very long time. Those men who possess higher levels of understanding do not do sigheh. Unfortunately, there are men who do it for reasons other than what it was intended for, and use religion for their own purposes.

MS - So, you don't endorse it because it's being misused?

EA - Not just that. Married men are allowed to sigheh, but married women aren't. There are certain restrictions on the woman- she can't be a virgin, she can't get pregnant. Maybe it's because I'm a woman. If married men are allowed to sigheh, then why can't married women? I mean if they can run around fulfilling their desires without constraint in the name of sigheh, then women should be able to as well. Plus, if you have love in your life and in your marriage, I don't think you need to do this.

MS - What did you do after the revolution?

EA - When the cultural revolution began, and the colleges were closed down, I went to Tehran for a month and a half. Anjoman-e Islami and Jihad held these military cultural camps. They trained citizens in weaponry. People from all over the country came. The classes were open to everyone, and we were taught how to use weapons in case of an enemy attack. And then we would go back to our cities and towns and teach the people what we had learned.

MS - What kind of enemies? External or internal?

EA - Both. In the early days, the revolution had many internal enemies who wanted to destroy it. And the US had just lost control over us- there were a lot of enemies we had to defend ourselves against.

We also had literacy and education programs. We would teach literacy to old people in the mosques and in other public places. We would buy writing materials for those who couldn't afford it so they could go to school.

MS - During the war against Iraq, Ahvaz was hit especially hard. Were you active during the war?

EA - Yes, I taught women how to arm themselves. I showed them how to load guns, how to shoot, clean, and maintain them. If the enemy was to come into their homes, they had better know how to defend themselves. There were some towns that were raided and there were many instances where women fought back and used arms.

We would also take abandoned buildings- there was one that was previously owned by a foreign company- and convert them into resting places for soldiers who had been injured during the war.

During the war, women supported and helped the soldiers, as well as sometimes fighting at their sides. The food that the soldiers ate was prepared and wrapped by women. During the big flood that hit Ahvaz, we would collect food and clothing, and wrap everything and load it unto the helicopters for redistribution.

The role of women has always existed in our history- including our Muslim history. From the Prophet's time, and Imam Ali's time, women fought in battles- even at the frontlines, ahead of the men. Khadijeh, the Prophet's wife, was the first person to convert to Islam. She was not only older than the Prophet by twenty years, but she was a successful businesswoman as well. When she proposed to Prophet Mohammad, he was an employee of hers. And it was during the Prophet's time that the first woman, Somaya, is martyred. And after the Prophet's death, when Abu Bakr tried to take from Fatemeh the land that her father had given her, she refused and fought back. Or when Feríoon declared his own self to be God, his wife, Asieh, stood in opposition to him and challenged him. She told him that it was God who created him, and he killed her as a result.

If there was a man who became Muslim, there was always a woman who had become Muslim as well.

During every period, women's social role existed, and its presence was felt.

MS - Do you think that this exists today? Are women standing side-by-side, or are they behind men? In English, there is an expression, "Behind every successful man there is a woman."

When you yourself speak of the past, you don't say "behind", you say "next to", or even "in front of". How about today?

EA - Women can stand side-by-side with men. But they don't know their rights. They're ignorant of the laws. They accept injustice without doing the necessary research to educate themselves about their rights.

MS - But what about the laws that don't grant women their rights, and don't protect them from injustices. It's not just a matter of women strengthening themselves. Society needs to protect them, or at least not put obstacles in their way.

EA - I don't believe that our laws reflect Islam accurately. In reality, our society doesn't carry out Islam properly. If people are acting un-Islamically, then the laws must prevent them from acting unjustly. And the laws don't do this.

MS - Do you think more women need to be in the Majles? And if so, how many more?

EA - I think that if not more than half, then at least half of our representatives should be women. They need to run for office so they can defend their rights. All women need to work together toward this end.

Women are smart, and I think it's a real waste of their talents if they stay home.

MS - Do you believe the hejab should be mandatory?

EA - Laws must be respected. We live in an Islamic republic, so our laws are based on the tenets of Islam, and Islam says that a woman should be covered. But I don't believe that all women should wear a chador. That should not be mandatory. That must come with a certain understanding.

But the headscarf and the loose clothing, which many argue isn't even really a hejab the way they are often worn, should be mandatory. Like I said, it's part of living in an Islamic republic.

MS - It's true that when I talk to both activist and non-activist secular women, most of them say the hejab is the least of their concerns. What troubles them most is the limitations on their rights.

On the other hand, when I speak to young people, it seems as if, given that the Islamic revolution has been unable to create a generation of believers, many of them have come to resent what has been forced upon them. And I think it is a natural reaction to dislike what has been imposed on you, regardless of its inherent values. How do you resolve this problem?

EA - True, this is a problem. And much of true Islam has yet to be carried out successfully. Our society has much room for growth, although it bears mentioning that some of these social problems have existed from before.

I think there's much room for men's growth as well. They have yet to fully accept women's capabilities. And I recognize that part of the problem is our laws, that they don't provide enough freedom and rights for women.

MS - But when it comes to the hejab, there can be no choice in the matter.

EA - Like I said, it is part of Islam and we live in an Islamic republic. There are many forms of hejab and women are free to choose whichever form suits them. But eliminating the law, like eliminating many laws that protect us, would be a detriment to our society.

MS - After the war, what happened? For many of these women who had fought side-by-side- wasn't it difficult for them to go back inside the home and limit themselves to domestic responsibilities?

EA - Women have two responsibilities- social and personal. During the war, women had to carry certain responsibilities. During peace, they have to carry others. In my opinion, life is a struggle; it's a war in itself. A person has to be prepared at all times. When women raise their children, they are fighting. They are fighting against ignorance and illiteracy when they raise their children and help them with their schoolwork. The home is a different kind of trench. As long as you're still alive, you have to keep trying. You cannot give up.

It's not a division of power I am talking about, but rather a division of responsibility. Men don't want to accept that women are competent, but both sexes are capable and strong within their own respective capacities.

I also believe that individuals must take their own rights themselves. I have to earn my own rights. I cannot wait for someone to hand them to me.

MS - You speak of Khadijeh pursuing the Prophet. She went after him, and proposed to him. How do you think people would respond today if a woman behaved like her?

EA - I think it depends on the individual.

MS - Sure, but in general, what do you think the reaction would be?

EA - There was a woman whose daughter died while giving birth to her child. Her mother suggested to her other single daughter that, if she was willing, she could marry her deceased sister's husband. She would be able to raise her sister's child. The family already knew and accepted him, and so after the 40 days of mourning had passed, they got married. Now, she's raising her sister's daughter, and has two children of her own as well.

Many people thought it was a very strange idea. They didn't approve, but I thought, why not? If the sister liked him, there was nothing wrong with it.

MS - Are you presently involved in any social activities?

EA - Together with several other women, I've organized a club called the Society of Self-Motivated Sisters. We offer various classes for women in the area, such as sewing, painting, computers, language, pottery, and Qoran classes. We take them out to have some fun. We're also trying to provide music classes, despite some people's objections.

MS - What's wrong with music? What kind of music classes are you trying to offer?

EA - They're uncomfortable with it. But we're a cultural association and an art club, and we have to offer other things besides Qoran classes. Plus, I tell them that the Qoran is music.

So far, we've found an organ and a santoor teacher.

MS - Your daughters don't wear the chador. It seems as if you allow them quite a bit of freedom in choosing their own styles in appearance.

EA - My father couldn't make me wear the chador, and I can't make them wear it either. When I would ask my father why I should wear it, he would only say, "because God wants you to". That wasn't good enough for me. I went through my own process until I was ready and understood its significance.

So I tell my daughters my opinions on matters, and I offer them as much as guidance as possible. I fulfill my end of the responsibility.

Many people criticize me, and I know they talk behind my back because my daughters not only don't wear the chador, but they are considered practically bee-hejab [unveiled] because of the way they dress.

But they must decide for themselves. I think they'll make the right decision and come to the chador themselves.

MS - And if they don't?

EA - That's fine too.

Conducted and translated by MS

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