
Does a seminar on reforming the meter and rhyme schemes of Persian poetry violate “Islamic values” and threaten the foundations of Iran? That is the view of the Islamic Court in Tehran, which last month sentenced two poets to 9 and 11 years in prison respectively plus 99 lashes of the cane for each in public.
One of the two, Mrs. Fatemeh Ekhtesari, sentenced to 11 and a half years, was found guilty of “undermining the security of the Islamic state” by composing and reciting in public a number of “poems full of ambiguity and capable of being read in deviant and dangerous ways.”
Ekhtesari is a surrealist poet whose verse could, and indeed is intended to be read in many different ways. One of her diwans (collections of verse), for example, is called “Crying on the Shoulder of An Egg.”
The Tehran Islamic Prosecutor, however, insisted that Ekhtesari’s “ambiguous poems” were meant to pass “dangerous political messages that could encourage people to distance themselves from the True Faith.”
“She writes something but means something else,” the prosecutor claimed. “Her trick is to avoid saying anything in a straightforward way, creating space for all manner of dangerous thinking.”
The Islamic Prosecutor based part of his case on the claim that what matters in Islam is “zikr” (remembrance of God). Those who abandon “zikr” for its opposite, which is “fikr”, that is to say thinking, move away from the Path of Faith.
The irony in all this is that Ekhtesari is not a political poet. In fact, she has written that those who try to use poetry to advance political ideals betray both. As editor of the monthly literary magazine “Only One Tomorrow,” Ekhtesari offered space to writers and poets across ideological spectrum, including some Khomeinists.
However, as a poet she cannot be but affected by the ambient social and political order in her homeland. She cannot turn her face the other way when she sees ugliness, oppression and terror, themes that force their way into some of her poems.
Ekhtesari is also an original theoretician of poetic modes. Her collection of essays entitled “Linguistic Tricks in Postmodern Sonnet” is both intriguing and instructive.
Ekhtesari’s fellow convict-cum-poet is Mehdi Mussawi who has received a six-year sentence. Mussawi is the founder and principal animator of a poetry workshop in Tehran where Ekhtesari has often spoken and recited her poems. The workshop is supposedly dedicated to developing a new form, which Mussawi calls “postmodern ghazal.”
The argument is that, having experimented with modern forms including European-style prose-poetry for almost a century, Persian poets need to return to traditional forms, albeit with radical changes to reflect modern realities.
Mussawi rejects the argument of older generation poets such as Ahmad Shamlou who claimed that the traditional ghazal is so beholden to the musicality of its meter and rhyme schemes that it cannot relay any meaning in a powerful way.
According to Mussawi, once the Persian poet has learned to play with the traditional rules, he could invent virtually countless meters and rhymes capable of expressing any sentiment.
The Islamic court, however, has charged Mussawi with propagating “immoral images” in his poetry and thus “insulting sacred values of the faithful community.”
Equally painful is the Islamic Court’s decision to impose a blanket ban on the publication and recital of any poems by Ekhtesari and Mussawi. Under an edict issued by the Islamic Guidance Ministry in 2003, people in that position become “non-persons,” even their names and pictures are banned.
Both Ekhtesari and Mussawi spent several months in prison two years ago but were released after the prosecutor failed to prove any political crime. This is why this time, the prosecutor focused on a claim that the poets had attacked “sacred tenets of faith.”
The sentencing was made easier thanks to a recent lecture by “Supreme Guide” Ayatollah Ali Khamenei laying down the rules of what he believes “good Islamic poets” should do when writing poetry.
However, as exiled poet Yadallah Roya’i once noted, one could write an advertising text or a police report on order, but not poetry. “Even the poet cannot order himself to write poetry,” Roya’i noted.” The poet is like a tree, shedding its leaves and flowers so that there is room for future leaves and flowers.”
Ekhtesari and Mussawi have been sent to jail, not killed. Others haven’t been that lucky. Hashem Shaabani was hanged on the eve of President Rouhani’s visit to Ahvaz in 2014.
Shaabani was not the first Iranian poet to be murdered by the mullahs. The left-wing poet, Sa’id Sultanpur, was abducted on the day of his wedding on Khomeini’s orders and shot dead in a Tehran prison. Rahman Hatefi, writing under the pen name of Heydar Mehregan, had his veins cut and was left to bleed to death in the Evin prison.
Under President Hashemi Rafsanjani, a plan to kill a busload of Iranian poets on their way to a festival in Armenia failed at the last minute. Nevertheless, Rafsanjani succeeded in eliminating more than a dozen writers and poets. The worst spate of killings happened under President Khatami when more than 80 intellectuals including the poets Mohammad Mokhtari and Mohammad-Ja’far Pouyandeh were murdered by government agents.
Let’s give the final word to Mussawi: “I hope to see the day when no one is sent to jail in this land for writing poems.” InshaAllah!







