Sunday Bloody Sunday in Tehran
“Broken bottles under children’s feet, Bodies strewn across the dead end streets.” Written to describe the killing of protesters in Northern Ireland during the early 1970s, the lyrics to “Sunday Bloody Sunday” by U2 are being dedicated to those who have died during recent protests in Iran. Beginning their stop in Barcelona, U2 transforms the performance of “Sunday Bloody Sunday” into one advocating freedom in Iran. On July 12, Iranians voted in a presidential election that has been widely criticized for alleged irregularities and signs of corruption. Two attempts were made to get a comment from the Iranian UN Consulate for this article; however, they refused both times. For weeks, hundreds of thousands of Iranians had been marching through the streets of Tehran, Isfahan and other Iranian cities in support of opposition candidate Mir Hossein Mousavi. Mousavi represented the greatest political threat to the current president, Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, and when the election results were reported, Ahmadinejad won by 63 percent. Unconvinced that the results were as lopsided as reported and certain that their candidate, Mousavi, had been unjustly cheated out of the presidency, those protestors again took to the streets. Carrying green banners and wearing green scarves (the official color of Mousavi’s campaign), the protestors walked through the streets in silence.
At first, these rallies were met with mere indifference by the Iranian government, but as frequency and participation grew in the following days, the state deployed official police forces and the Basij, a volunteer militia group, to break up the protestors. Refusing to disperse, the protestors were attacked by the Basij on motorcycles carrying truncheons and guns. Tear gas was tossed into the crowd. Dumpsters were set on fire, and the opposition voices grew louder. Protesters were shot from rooftops and died in the streets.
One victim of the shootings was Neda Agha-Soltan. The Iranian government has denied that her death was caused by the Basij. She has become a symbol for those dying in the fight against the current Iranian regime.
Though resistance still exists and nightly chants of protest fill the air, the numbers that once poured into the streets of Tehran have dwindled. The violence and oppression of the police force has kept many off the streets. As those voices inside Iran become quiet, voices advocating their cause resonate across the world.
At a U2 concert, the voice of advocacy resonates at about 110 decibels. Each night of their current “360°” world tour, the haunting voice of Sussan Deyhim, an Iranian-born singer/performer creeps through the speakers in tones and rhythms unfamiliar to a Western audience. Her song is “Beshno Az Ney/Windfall,” and its lyrics are based upon the words of the Persian poet Rumi. His words, written in red, in Farsi, against green background scroll by on a huge screen above the stage. The spotlights shine green and the beginning beats of “Sunday Bloody Sunday” break though “Windfall.” The words of Rumi are replaced by pictures of a bloody and dying Neda, protesters being tear-gassed, and waving political banners. The symbolism is not subtle and is not wasted on unknowing spectators.
Aban, an Iranian-American with family still residing in Isfahan traveled from Los Angeles to Chicago to see the first U2 show in the U.S. as part of this tour. “I had to go … I had to see it,” he said. Aban is not his real name. He has asked that it not be used for fear of repercussions to his extended family in Iran. The Iran (IRI) government has arrested many participants in this protest movement as well as their families. Like many in the Iranian diaspora, Aban is far from home, but tightly connected. “I can’t be back home. I can’t march, but I can encourage,” says Aban. He feels that by attending the U2 concert and posting YouTube videos of the “Sunday Bloody Sunday” performance, he is doing all he can from where he is.
Soraya Cochran, a contributor for Persianesque Magazine, is not surprised by U2’s message. “U2 is a legendary rock band renowned for their philanthropic work, and U2’s support for the Iranian people and their plight was not as surprising as it was energizing and comforting,” said Cochran. She says, and Aban agrees, that in a case of such violence on the international stage where tensions are so high, “unity and support can go a long way.”
As U2 continues its tour across the U.S., Cochran, Aban and other Iranian-Americans hope to see the issue of human rights in Iran and what they believe to be an illegitimate government exposed. “We are a people who love art and poetry and music,” says Aban. “Those men, men without culture, show only violence.” For Aban, it is right that the message be distributed through music and art. U2 utilizes that, and the song of Sussan and the picture of bloody Neda will be seen nightly.