Alia strips again, this time here in Sweden

This is what happened a few days ago here in Sweden. Alia Majed El-Mahdi -whom you most likely know by now- took her protest to the frozen streets of Sweden and the very doorstep of the Egyptian embassy in Stockholm. Alia shed her clothes along with two fellow-activists to denounce what is being done unto her people back home in Egypt. She protested a Muslim-Brotherhood's darling, Mohammad Morsi, for having started to sound much like the notorious Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini lately referring to his powers as "divinely-sanctioned and blessed". 

In my perspective, regardless of how brave and courageous Alia was in at least standing up and doing what she could, this was made possible thanks to this benign and benevolent Swedish nation. What the Swedes have achieved as the fruit of the sweat and blood of thousands of people through generations has resulted to the betterment of not only themselves but many people like Alia. Like us who have taken refuge here in this land. This is added reason why I honestly believe that constructive patriotism should eventually evolve into globalism: You can only have a good neighbourhood if you-first and foremost- take good care of your own residence.

All throughout the years I have never relinquished my unfathomable love for my plagued motherland.  In my mental journey I came a long way from ethnocentrism and blind nationalism to a reformed nationalism to patriotism in the sense just elaborated, - also reflected in the very title of this blog. But today I say proudly that just as I will always remain grateful to my beloved Iran, my second homeland is definitely this very wonderful Sweden.

I love Iran and would do whatever humanly possible for her, but it is Sweden that makes it possible for me to do what I need to do. It is Sweden that allows me to write freely now and indulge myself in these very basic freedoms for which people lose their lives in my homeland. 

I will always love you Iran. I sure will do. But allow me this once to rephrase the opening sentence of this post and say: This is what happened a few days ago here in Sweden, my second homeland.

Me, Myself and Sweden!

I arrived in Sweden on an August day to follow a life-long dream of pursuing my education and turning into a full-time professional journalist/author in a free environment, somewhere I would not be forced to blabber things I don't subscribe to, to work where work is needed, to contribute and leave a lasting footprint in life long after I'm gone.

Eversince my arrival in the land of the Vikings every day has been like a dream, I still cannot believe that I managed to leave my secure zone and break out of the frame I had put around my "self".

It was not easy for me to take such a drastic step in life and leave my job, my home and all I had created bit by bit behind, but damn it, it was well worth it! Now I am actually taking the path I was I always meant to. I am creating my reality the way I always wanted it to be and here is the right place and the right time.

The last connection I had with my motherland was sadly the "Iran Air" flight that took me to this new phase in life which, in itself, was quite of an experience. Why you may ask? Well, let me go back and lecture a bit on Iranian history: first, as some of you might know, Iran Air (founded in 1946) was established, along many other good things we have today, during the Shah's era (i.e. prior to the 1979 revolution). At the time Iran enjoyed peaceful and friendly relations with the West and, in particular the US, which entitled the country to be the most significant customer of the Western technologies. You have to remember that during the same time the Soviets were still enjoying their rule over the vast awkward jigsaw puzzle of USSR and the Royal Iran was perceived by many in the West as a trustworthy ally against the communist threat. So, we purchased almost everything from the West, from shares of big Western companies, to the most modern military technologies, warfare and nuclear plants (in case you didn't know the current nuclear plant Iran is so desperately trying to launch was started decades ago) but after the revolution things were never the same. Not anymore.

The small group of people who took over Iran decided to play and the rest of the world was game! Iran was left on the one side and all others on the other, all the prestige and reputation created for my country was gone over night. The millenia-old-great-Persian-civilization was now synonymous with hostage taking, war, revolution, angry mobs and extremism. So the world decided to teach us a collective lesson in from of economic sanctions. In doing so what the global policy makers largely ignored was the fact that the vast majority of the Iranian nation had not even been born in 1979 let alone having a role in what brought the Islamic ochlocracy to power. Regretfully, these very sanctions which are supposed to be economic and political levers aimed to put pressure on the Iranian government don't actually impact Mr. Ahmadinejad, our cartoonish president, or his folks! They impact others: us, the youth, the women, the students - the majority!

These sanctions forbid the Iranian government from purchasing airplanes with more than %10 American parts, so when buying an Iran Air ticket one should bear in mind that he/she is going to have a flight with an aircraft which is 30 or 40+ years old at best and is, quite probably, an old Russian Topolov! I still remember that these Topolov airplanes were called flying coffins in Iran for their notorious history in sending my compatriots to the morgue. 

So that was how my small miscalculation in choosing Iran Air became my last memory of Iran. The flight was originally supposed to take five hours and something which took much longer and more enervating. The plane even stopped at one border point to refuel as much as it could since getting fuel was now banned for Iranian aircrafts in most international airports, including Sweden's Arlanda. All the long hours plus the million questions lingering in my mind of what it was going to be next, made me lose not only my nerves but also my senses; and the whole time during the flight I was blaming myself for having procrastinated becoming a father and leaving some descendants of mine! :)

Eventually it turned out that it was not my time to die yet; thus, my renaissance began on that late Summer day.