Until We Are Free

What at first feels like a collection of disconnected events becomes a more linked memoir of Shirin Ebadi’s ongoing efforts for human rights, and her life after receiving her well-deserved Nobel Peace Prize. Unable to keep her judgeship in Iran, she was still able to practice law, and it is clear from her interactions with anyone working against her that she excelled at this. She knows very well how the system operates, having learned the hard way, but this makes her stronger and better prepared to bring about justice. She is a human like any of us, and includes the details she remembers from her home country, the food, the sounds, the interiors of buildings where she worked, the way people presented themselves. Even though she is exile, and the intelligence ministry has done unthinkable things to try to stop her, she continues to work for what is right.

This ministry, by the way, is almost unbelievable, how far they would go to track her every move. They had people monitoring her home, her emails, her phone calls, everything, and despite finding nothing, they continue to pursue her. I can only imagine it is for their fear of losing power. One agent in particular stands out: Mahmudi, whose real name was never provided, and his obsession – in the truest sense of the word – for Ebadi and how to get her to “shut up.” When they couldn’t break her, they went after her husband, her sister, her colleagues, anyone that had any connection to her, at best causing an inconvenience, at worst destroying their lives. Ebadi’s faith is a part of her, and though I wish I still didn’t have to say this, religion is not the cause of the problems here. The abuse of power and authority, and occasionally corrupting the intent of religion, is the stem of human rights violations.

Ebadi also possesses a deep understanding of how these oppressors work, as well as how Iran influences other countries in the Middle East and the rest of the world. Late in the book, she briefly writes of how Iran still has oppressed women’s rights, but that overall it is much less severe than in other countries – though still far from equitable, set back further by former President Ahmadinejad. One moment, if understated in her writing, was mention of a place she visited that was notable for its complete lack of female employees. Also memorable was how, among Ahmedinejad’s other backwards policies, he had martyrs buried in the cities’ parks, altering the limited green space available, in a place already suffering from air pollution.

The chapter titles are ominous-sounding, but it is with a remarkably calm pen that Ebadi tells her stories. Many lines I wanted to underline, or highlight, saying so much in so little space. For example, she believed that President Obama’s comments after the 2009 election in Iran were just the right response – nothing that could be used against the United States. It is so important for world leaders to have this kind of understanding. Here I made sure to flag one passage: “What should a society do when a leader that is elected through a democratic process then seeks to subvert the very legal foundation on which the state, constitution, and electorate that voted him into power is based on? Can you allow a democratically elected leader to essentially destroy and subvert the principles that put him in power in the first place?” Here, this is in reference to Morsi’s removal in Egypt, but can also be seen as a warning for democracies elsewhere. Like Ta-Nehisi Coates’ “Between the World and Me” this may be “required reading,” for its insight on what it takes to achieve equity in human rights.

Note: I won a copy of this book through Goodreads First Reads.