Pandora's Box

Oh Pandora, don't open it or there won't be any secret left...

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Location: Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada

Saturday, September 16, 2006

For Khatami


Before May 23, 1997, when I was at high school's second grade, I wasn't really into politics. It was Khatami's unexpected presidency that made me think a little about it. Actually Khatami brought about my precocious political awareness. Right before him, an overarching hatred and aversion loomed over the country. Hopes were dead and prospects gloomy. He brought such notions as tolerance, dialogue, respect, indulgence, freedom and so many other things that had been long forgotton. He wore white instead of black, he smiled instead of scowl, he encouraged long live instead of down with. I grew up with him as the president, my mindset was formed with the experiences of those eight years, either good or bad; with that bright period of colorful papers, candid speeches, blossoming art and that dark period of shutting-downs, imprisonments and reign of terror. In all those years, everything was in a constant state of change except one: Khatami himself. He was subject to the most unfair accusations and excoriating remarks but he never lost his composure, stayed calm and reassuring. He tried to bridge conflicting ideas, Islam and democracy, modernity and tradition, and hardest of them all: friends and enemies. Sometimes we labeled him leader of the reform movement, sometimes we wanted him to be a Che Guevara like revolutionary. He was neither of them. But certainly he has always been and will be one thing for me: my everlasting hero and the last remnant of my nationalist pride.

PS: watch his brief speech in English in condemning 9-11 at Harvard University.

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