Sharifeh Jafari - October 4, 2014
 |
| Examples of Turkish books published in Iran, mostly on poetry and folkloric literature. |
In the days when I was the managing director of Pinar Publishing, we became a ray of hope for the writers of the Turkish-speaking province of Zanjan. Day and night, we prepared books with the least resources we had. Several Turkish poetry books were published by our press. At the same time, there were insults in the Iranian newspaper targeting Turks. The Turkish-speaking people protested widely in Tehran and the Turkish-majority provinces, including Zanjan. After that day, life became dark for us, for the Turkish language, literature, and culture. Every day, they raided my office for various reasons, inspecting the place. We were forcibly relocated to Karaj, and there, as the number of Turkish-speaking clients increased, the Ministry of Intelligence and Security started visiting my workplace and home again. Gradually, they banned us from organizing book fairs in cities and provinces. At one of these fairs, the Ministry of Intelligence suddenly ordered the confiscation and ban of Turkish books, including my own poetry books.
Every publisher works for years to gain recognition. I was destroyed at the height of my success. In 2012, I was banned from participating in the Tehran Book Fair, and after that, from participating in book fairs in provincial Turkish-speaking areas. Then, out of nowhere, they told me that I had been suspended for six months and could not register books during that time. They only communicated this orally, and there was no one to answer my questions. We were constantly trying to avoid giving them any reason to harass us, so I refrained as much as possible from accepting Turkish books, although hundreds of Turkish writers and poets from across Iran approached me.
I asked for the written suspension order to know who had issued it, but they told me it was impossible. I asked if I could still register books, and they replied that they wouldn’t accept them, so how could I register them? It was impossible to explain how difficult and torturous this was. I turned to every official and begged. Sometimes they would tell me it was from the Ministry of Culture and Islamic Guidance in Tabriz, and I should go and get their approval. In Tabriz, I would approach everyone and end up wandering from one office to another. As a woman, they insulted me, telling me repeatedly that this work was not for a woman, and that a woman should be at home, serving her husband. Due to these views, they made every effort to annoy me and tried to break my spirit.
After eight years of hard work, resistance, and living my life with a passion for my work, everything was destroyed. They told me there would be a reconsideration meeting, and I should attend; then, a decision would be made. In the end, they said I was being penalized for publishing A Brief History of the Turks by Professor Javad Heyat, a book they claimed I had published without permission. I showed them the approval for the book, but they insisted I was mistaken. They said the book was "Pan-Turkic" and promoted sectarianism, which was just an excuse since the book had already been approved after one revision and a year of processing.
In many countries, the permit to publish and distribute books is granted easily by the relevant unions within a set time frame, and the publisher is responsible for the content of the book. If a complaint arises from the author or reader, the government steps in to remove the books from circulation. However, in Iran, the regulations are stressful, torturous, and cumbersome. When someone wants to obtain a publishing license, they must pass security checks and then wait months to receive final approval. By law, the decision should be made within two years, but in reality, it can take four years or even more. After such delays, they might decide not to issue a permit at all. Once a publisher gets approval, they need to obtain individual permissions for each book they wish to publish. If a book isn't disqualified or doesn't receive a correction, it might be approved in a few months. However, for books in fields like literature, history, and politics, due to the current conditions, the author engages in self-censorship. Even against their will, they have to praise the system, Islam, the leader, etc., directly or indirectly proving their loyalty to the Islamic Republic. Then, the publisher, who is in charge of the process, censors the book. For instance, if the text includes words like freedom, intimacy, kiss, or sex, they are replaced with similar words or deleted. The book then passes through the Ministry of Culture's long and complicated review process before it gets approved.
Returning to my own story, they told me to sign a statement admitting that I had published the book without permission and to promise not to do so again. I refused, but they told me every publisher is allowed to make mistakes, and if they sign a commitment, they can continue. They told me there were publishers who had signed commitments six times and still continued their work. In the end, I accepted, but after signing, the security officer laughed and said, "This is what I wanted." I didn’t understand his meaning. Two days later, I was summoned to court with vague and confusing accusations. I consulted with a lawyer, who discovered that my publishing permit had been revoked eight months earlier, in a meeting I wasn't informed about. In the end, they told me that with these charges, I could face up to three years in prison. My lawyer advised me to find a property deed and a guarantor. This was the height of cruelty. I was just a poet, a writer, someone who loved my life and my work. My crime was my language and understanding my fellow poets' language.
Apart from my personal experience, currently, obtaining a publishing license for a book in Turkish in Iran is very difficult and time-consuming, as the regime requires a standardization process. The issue of script—where Turkish words are written in a Persianized script—is very confusing, and books often go through multiple revisions. In the end, because of excessive revisions, the permit is canceled. Each revision means months of delay. The use of names and references to Azerbaijani fighters should be avoided; for example, if a poet mentions figures like Babak or Seyyed Jafar Pishavari, it may cause problems for the writer. Buying Turkish books is either not possible or very limited, and if the content is supportive of the regime, some books are purchased. Active publishers cannot only print Turkish books; they can print and distribute Turkish books alongside Persian books. Any Azerbaijani publisher participating in a book fair is surely monitored by several individuals from the Ministry of Intelligence, who observe and eavesdrop on customers. I have often witnessed the tears of elderly Turkish-speaking writers, whose only wish was to see their work in print before they passed away. My heart broke every time. I still remember the tears of Ali Karimi, a retired teacher and a devoted poet from Zanjan, who, due to illness and the high risk of heart surgery, had been waiting for his book to be published. His book had gone through three rounds of revisions, and after two years of waiting, they revoked my publishing license and his book was left stuck in the Ministry of Culture's archives.
This discriminatory and racist policy has unfortunately entered the minds and spirits of even ordinary Persian-speaking citizens, who, knowingly or unknowingly, follow this despicable policy. They view the Turkish people with contempt and mock their native language. When they speak in the language of their fellow citizens, they are treated as foreigners. And when they express their grievances, they are labeled as separatists and Pan-Turkists, because "the house is falling apart from the foundation."
Note: This report is based on a speech presented at the 27th side event of the Human Rights Council, held on September 9, 2014.
Link to the original article in Farsi on IranWire: https://iranwire.com/fa/blogs/5872/