Iran lifts strict religious veil (From Stroud News and Journal)

Iran lifts strict religious veil

Stroud author Jamila Gavin, winner of the 2000 Whitbread Children's Book of the Year for one of her many novels, Coram Boy, was recently invited to Iran for the very first children's book festival to be held there. Here she questions why she was chosen to be a guest in this highly religious country and describes some of the changes which she believes is opening up Iran to the west.

I WAS sitting with American children's writers, Donna Jo Napoli and Meghan Nuttal Sayres, in front of a television interviewer in the city of Kerman where we had come to attend the very first Children's Book Festival, at the invitation of the Department of Cultural and Islamic Guidance, Iran.

We had all been struggling with the dress code - Meghan in particular, with her unruly long dark blond hair, which insisted on straggling out of her constantly slipping headscarf.

There was too much of my hair showing too, so the interviewer asked if we would kindly adjust our headscarves.

We duly did - and not resentfully - for both of us had come expecting far more rigorous restrictions on ourselves, only to find openness and humour which was completely beguiling.

But it was the questions we were asked which reminded us, that we were indeed inside an Islamic Republic which had, notoriously, only a decade or so back, invoked a strict Sharia Law which could have had you sentenced to death for denying anything of the Islamic faith, and did.

Today, the two cardinal sins are to deny the existence of God, and to disbelieve in the coming of the Twelfth Imam. Imam Zaman - the Imam to Come!

"What do you think of a child's soul?" I was asked intently.

"It is something to be valued and treasured, "I answered, and was immediately reminded of an account I read when researching seventeenth century India.

A Venetian physician, Angelo Legrenzi, was being interviewed by the Grand Vizier of the Mogul court of Shah Jehan for a post as royal physician.

After the Venetian had listed all of his qualifications and experience, claiming great expertise in the diagnosis and treatment of many fevers and illnesses, the Grand Vizier leaned forward and asked, "Yes, but what about God?"

And that is the clue. To enter the mind of Islam, one needs to relate everything to God. Every session of the day began with moving and marvellous sung verses from the Koran.

We were mesmerised by the solo voice rising and falling, and rising even higher, breaking and ululating before receding to silence. "Allah Akbar" moaned the audience, pressing their hands to their hearts as it ended.

Each Iranian speaker began their talk with "In the name of the Beneficent God, the All Merciful."

But though all of us foreign visitors were aesthetically moved by the prayers and people's devotion, not one of us was able to claim to be a devotee of any religion, and could only say that we had been brought up Christians when asked our religion, which we were at every interview.

"But why haven't you converted to Islam? " asked an earnest and perplexed young schoolgirl in a school we visited.

"Because I haven't seen any reason to," I answered, as honestly as I could.

None had heard of Hinduism, Sikhism or Buddhism. I didn't dare mention Judaism, although in my presentation speech, I told my adult audience that I had been brought up to respect all faiths, and that this was evident in my name: Jamila (Arabic) Elizabeth (Judaeo/Christian) Khushal-Singh (Hindu/Sikh).

Most of the dissertations at the book festival were rather academic and narrow pieces of research concerning children's books - overlaid with religious dogma.

Only one speaker was considered to be controversial by the chair, and that was one of our translators, a young woman who pleaded for far wider diversity in children's books, and especially for science fiction to be given the status it deserved.

She poured scorn on presenting young children with 'worthy' books which went straight over their heads, and only served to leave them excruciatingly bored, and determined never to open another book once they had left school.

She criticised the Iranian society and children's religious books for celebrating Islamic violence - I thought that really brave.

For all the pleas for Islamicly correct books, I noticed, as we later toured the huge book tent looking at all the many children's publications that the image which most illustrators used on their book jackets were non Iranian, and were if anything, almost overtly European if not American.

Why weren't we seeing typical Iranian children in Iranian backgrounds? I asked. My companion - a book seller and translator had never thought to notice this detail - but once he had, agreed and questioned the publishers.

I found Iran full of inconsistencies. Not far from the giant bill boards with portraits of the Ayatollahs, were billboards advertising not just Rolex watches or Benetton Colours, but even KFC - including Colonel Sanders' smiling bearded face.

While the dress code dictated that all women and girls over the age of nine must be covered from head to toe with only their hands and faces permitted to be visible, it was amusing to see how all ages stretched the code.

Among the all-black covered women, looking like medieval nuns fluttering along the streets, were others wearing fitted jackets, high heels, colourful headscarves often showing a considerable amount of hair, and a good deal of make up.

There were strange, colourfully draped objects clinging to the outside of high-rise apartment blocks, disguised satellite dishes - something that is banned - but somehow the crime over-looked if they weren't blatantly visible.

Despite the dress code, women play a full and powerful part in Iranian society. We found them working as curators of museums, head teachers, business women, shop keepers.

In the schools, the girls had aspirations to be engineers, scientists and lawyers. They drive cars and walk the streets alone. They make movies, playing positive roles.

We saw feverish development in the cities; huge hotels going up and historical sites being rescued and renovated.

But there are widespread problems besetting even this controlling and highly religious society, such as child and female abuse, draconian divorce laws, a growing AIDs problem which could soon be at the same level as China, and rampant drug abuse.

Reformist groups fight to bring these issues out into the open - facing charges of being unIslamic to even admit they exist.

I did wonder if we would ever be allowed back into Iran again. I suspected that among the many translators and minders, there were people there to listen in on conversations, and we had so many powerful and animated conversations.

But it all seemed a game, and there was a surprising amount of laughter and jokes, which certainly meant that we at least never felt ill at ease or under constraint.

I have never met so many people in so short a time with whom I felt the strength of life-long friendship. These were the descendants of the great Persian civilisations; of the earliest forms of writing and books, of the powerful myths and legends that have come down to us.

This was the country of poets; of Rumi, Hadjoo, Omar Khayaam and Nasseem Shamal.

This was the country of paradise gardens from which our own notions of heaven come; minarets and mosques of heart-stopping beauty, and that wide desert landscape, flanked by high, snow-capped mountain ranges.

This was where the trade routes had traversed over generations, going from Kerman, Shiraz, Isfahan and Hamadan, pausing in the caravanserai on their way to and from Venice, Egypt, Turkey, India and China.

I could imagine Alexander the Great and his armies crossing these plains - and understood why he fell in love with Persia and Persian culture.

This was the first Children's Book Festival. But why had the Iranian government paid a not inconsiderable amount of money to fly us over, and host us royally for ten days? Did they think children's writers unthreatening enough to use as guinea pigs?

Were they testing the waters, opening a small window into the outside world to see how it would go down? Were they shocked to find how irreligious we were?

My speech, especially, talked about multi-culturalism, and learning to live in a diverse society of many different faiths, and how books opened doors; empowered people - empowered children.

But even that speech was no surprise to them. I had to send it on ahead for translation before I left England.

The enthusiasm for the festival was palpable. Authors, illustrators, publishers and teachers milled about enjoying their encounters and conversation.

The city of Kerman hopes this will not be the last book festival, and that its name will become synonymous with children's books. I hope so and that they'll ask me back. In any case, I'll go back one day. I've still got to see Persepolis!

On the plane returning to London - full of mainly Iranians - I noticed the headscarves slipping off, and hair being shaken out. Somehow it seemed to be an indicator of the desire for life to ease up, allow choice, and become more tolerant. I hope so.