Shikasta; Solidarity by Peter Khan Zendran

“You’re Iranian and leading a demonstration for Palestine?!”

That may have shocked a few people at the JFK building in Boston on July 24, 2003. What right does an Iranian have to get involved in Palestinian affairs? It’s called solidarity. It’s called realizing that someone who has a common enemy as you needs help and offering whatever assistance is needed.

That day Amer Jubran, the Palestinian man who called the demonstration in support of his deportation trial for helping Palestinians organize in America, needed all the support he could get. And he knew I would give the right support. He remembered December 10, 2002 when we headed up a demonstration against Ehud Barak. He remembered how I kept things going and gave the security forces, private, police, and other, a shock to their system. The police were shocked that we were there for well over the standard hour most demonstrations last.

They were shocked that we didn’t fall for their provocations, though they fell for the donuts I brought, as well as that I had pepper spray and would use it on them if they used it on me. His Palestinian friends remembered me from April 10, 2002, when I took control of a Palestinian demonstration when the person who organized it was late in Providence which started out as some depressing college kids and over the hill hippies hanging around to an event that made the media and police take notice. The feds and the police remembered too. Amer knew on July 24, 2004 that once I showed up at noon the feds were in for a REAL demonstration. They got one.

Once Amer went into the JFK building for his trial and I had grabbed the Palestinian flag and jumped on a wall for everyone to see I went to work. I kept chants going for two hours, in English and Arabic, even when my voice got hoarse the feds were complaining they could hear me on the 14th floor of the JFK building. Once we got tired chanting I kept people parading around the JFK building and holding up signs until Amer left around 5:00 PM, frustrating the feds who thought we were going to leave. Needless to say Amer and the Palestinians were grateful for my assistance. I would have done more if my ride was not waiting. The next day they were even more grateful when my picture made the front page of the Providence Journal. Even though the photographer misspelled my name, even after I had written it down for her, the affect of that picture of me on the front page heading up that demo was sensational.

Within 24 hours my picture was around the world, even appearing on posters in places like Jordan and Pakistan. The reaction from many of my Iranian contacts was different. Some of them made comments like “quit waving that nigger rag” and “stop hanging with those tazis.” One whacko even asked me to pose naked with the Palestinian flag. Mostly the reaction was that many Iranians thought I was nuts in my reasoning by helping the Palestinians to help them. I remembered the same thing was said about Pitt the Elder when he choose to invade France through America. My Iranian contacts did not understand that the Palestinians have a common enemy with the Iranians in the American government and that a win for the Palestinians is a win for the Iranians, since it takes care of a common enemy. That’s what solidarity is about. About realizing who your friends and enemies really are and acting for the benefit of the greater good.

That demonstration at least went better than one a week before it that I attended. That one was in support of the Narragansett Indian tribe who had been raided by the RI state police. I knew that the demo had nothing to do with Iranian affairs. However, some of those Indians were old neighbors and friends of mine, so when some friends of mine offered me a ride I went with them. The sign I brought saying “Asians and Native Americans in solidarity” drew many positive remarks. The next day I got the shock.

A Cherokee woman who was a close friend of mine who was on the receiving end of government harassment had a breakdown. That in itself would not have been that bad except for that it happened at the same time I was at that demonstration and it was the person who got me involved in Native American affairs that had the breakdown. When I heard the news I felt the same way poppy bush did when he made the “no new taxes” remark. At least I had done some good there though.

The only problem with solidarity is that you never know who you may end up dealing with. I learned that on September 28, 2003 when I joined in an anti-american-imperialism demo in Boston. I brought with me the Iranian flag. Not the IRI flag, but the Shir-o-Khorshid flag. The flag of the Iran that the American government betrayed for it’s own purposes. Only three people who did not identify themselves complained. Everyone else had no problem. One half-Iranian man wanted to know why I brought the flag.

I told him I was taking a stand for the Iranian people to be proud of themselves and remember how they were before America’s government betrayed them by supporting the revolution and to stand against American aggression. He shook my hand. The only major complainer of the three was from some union member who’s head was filled with Marxist lies about pre-1979 Iran who I kept calling a liar as he deserved. A few minutes later as if to respond to the lies of that union member Amer Jubran and I began the chant “Being Iranian is NOT a crime.” That chant resonated through downtown Boston by the 1000+ demonstrators who marched through the oncoming rain and was heard by the police and skinheads following us.

Little would I suspect that the three malcontents there that day, despite their weakness that day, would make trouble later. But that didn’t really matter, for those who fell for their lies would show themselves for the fakes they are and they would soon realize that I had made a difference. That difference was helping to bury 26 centuries of antagonism between Iranians and Arabs by working in the present to right the wrongs of the past. Sure I didn’t agree with all the ideas of the people that were there that day, sure I took a risk, sure some people there of the same mindset would choose to intimidate other Iranians who were of similar mindset as myself later on to cover for their shortcomings, but I had made a difference that day.

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Shikasta is a series of short stories about a man of mixed Iranian ethnicity who is rediscovering his heritage while living in America. These stories are based on real experiences. Stay tuned.