"I will never forgive those responsible for the burning of my Turkish books."

Əlirza Quluncu (Alirza Quluncu) - December 12, 2017

Dr. Shapur Ansari

The well-known surgeon Shapur Ansari shares memories from the era of the Autonomous National Government of Azerbaijan (1945-1946) (Part Two)

"I still feel its impact. I will never forgive those responsible for that, no matter who they are," said Shapur Ansari as he shared his impressions with Voice of America about the burning of Turkish textbooks following the fall of the Azerbaijani National Government in December 1946.


According to his account, “In December 1945, the year the National Government was established, textbooks hadn’t yet been replaced, but in practice, we were taught in Turkish. Everything we spoke in the classroom was in Turkish; only the textbooks were still the old Persian ones. We were in the third grade. With the end of summer and the start of the new school year (1946), our new textbooks were now prepared in our own language, and I sat in a Turkish language class myself.”



Ansari emphasizes that he still remembers the content of those textbooks: “I still remember those books. I know many parts by heart. After the 1979 Revolution, copies of those textbooks were reprinted. I bought a set, and they are here in my library. When I read the stories, I see they’re the same ones I studied at school.

Turkish language arrived, and my enthusiasm for school grew.

“They would drop us off at school through one door, and we’d escape through the other,” says Mr. Ansari, describing his initial reluctance to attend school. But he recalls that with the start of education in Turkish, he began going to school with enthusiasm.

The National Government prepared new textbooks.

"Back then, for instance, there was no one in our street who could speak Persian. My father could read and write it, but he couldn’t speak it. But suddenly, when everything became Turkish, it felt so comfortable that we enjoyed going to school. I remember the school we attended, Khajeh Nasir School, had two doors. One opened onto the street, and the other was a back door. At that time, what we called a 'servant' would take me and my cousin, who was in the same class, and hand us over at school. We’d enter through one door and escape out the other. Because it was in Persian, it didn’t bring us any joy. But as soon as Turkish arrived, my enthusiasm grew. I became interested in the stories and jokes in the books. Studying became so easy for us..."

I threw my Turkish books into the flames.

This enthusiasm and comfort did not last long.

"Unfortunately, in December 1946, [the National Government] was overthrown, and the books were burned," Shapur Ansari recounts the tragic book-burning event to Voice of America.

"I was one of those who burned those books myself; there were people gathered in the schoolyard. A tall officer and some teachers were there. They had built a bonfire in the yard. It was very cold. Everyone gathered around the fire. We were all kids, enjoying it. They told us, ‘Go and bring any Turkish books you have at home, so we can burn them here.’ So, we went home and brought all the Turkish books we had—mine, my brother’s, and my sister’s. We joyfully threw the books, one by one, into the flames. We didn’t understand the meaning of it; we saw it more like a bonfire celebration for the last Wednesday of the year. They encouraged us to do it. This ceremony lasted for about one or two hours. This event took place everywhere."

The Southern scholar continued his education in Persian again, but he emphasizes that he never felt comfortable speaking Persian as if it were his native language.

“It’s true, I studied in Persian and was always the top student in Maragheh, Tabriz, and Tehran. However, I could never learn to speak Persian fluently. That is, I was never able to speak it with the eloquence of my own language; I never fully mastered Persian in that way,” the experienced surgeon remarks.

Mr. Ansari moved his listeners when he shared the story of the book-burning at an event at his grandchildren’s school in San Francisco, USA.

He says, “I shared this memory at my grandchildren’s school in San Francisco. One thing they focused on was whether I still feel disturbed by the burning of the books. I said that its impact still lingers with me. I will never forget that event. I will never forgive those responsible, no matter who they are.”

My Most Horrifying Memories: The Events After the Overthrow of the National Government

Shapur Ansari describes the horrors faced by members of the Democratic Party after the fall of the National Government:

“They were terrifying days. My worst childhood memory is of those people being killed. We were just children. We didn’t know what was happening. A group was sent out into the streets, saying, ‘Let’s go destroy such-and-such person’s house.’”

He recalls the severe punishments inflicted on villagers by landowners, the beatings, torture, and even hangings of Democratic Party members.

"In our village, neither my father had oppressed the villagers up to that point, nor did they ever mistreat us. We had a peaceful and respectful relationship. When we returned to the village, that same respect was still there for us. No one mistreated them either, even though they had taken over our lands. My father didn’t demand anything from them. But in some villages, the landowners treated the ‘rayats’ (landless peasants) poorly. They were beaten in stables, tied to posts, and imprisoned. Many were left homeless," Shapur Ansari explains.

Commenting on what happened to members of the Democratic Party, the Southern scholar draws attention to specific examples he witnessed:

Our Neighbor Exiled to Southern Iran

Shapur Ansari recalls witnessing people in Maragheh who had “fallen into bad conditions” and families left in destitution. He remembers their neighbor, the Katanji family, who were separated from their family and exiled to southern Iran.

“We had a neighbor in Maragheh, may he rest in peace, named Katanji, who was a cloth seller. His misfortune was that he had registered with the Party… they put him through terrible suffering. I was a child. There was a chimney between our walls. One night, until morning, my father, mother, and aunts took fabrics from his wife and brought them to our house because his shop had been destroyed, and they were told he had more fabrics at home. The next day, they were going to come and ransack his home. This poor man was sent to Bandar Abbas (in southern Iran). He stayed there, and his wife was left destitute here.”

The Fate of Vosuq al-Divan and His Daughters and the Exiled Aghabala

“There was Vosuq al-Divan in Maragheh. Looking back, I see his family was very enlightened. His daughters were educated, they would speak at the women’s organization and organize parades. He was hiding somewhere, but they found him. He had a white shirt on, which I will never forget. Blood was staining his white shirt,” Mr. Ansari recalls, describing another incident he witnessed.

He adds, “There was Aghabala, a fiery member of the Party and an émigré from Baku. They dragged him through the streets, beating him. This humiliation was terrifying… In front of my eyes, they shot someone in front of the Electricity Administration. They pushed him down the stairs. His head was bleeding, and they dragged him away. There were so many crimes. I saw many of them. Later, I found out we hadn’t even gone to the other side of town where several others had been shot.”

Frozen Corpses on the Gallows in the Cold

According to Shapur Ansari, the overthrow of the Azerbaijani National Government brought joy to many, including his father, a landowner. But the violence and executions soon overshadowed this atmosphere of celebration.

He recalls, “I remember, on my way to school, we’d count how many people had been hanged. One day, we counted 17 who were hanged. I myself saw at least a hundred on my way to school. In the morning, we’d see them being hanged, and when we returned home, we’d see them already hanging. Sometimes, when the wind blew, these bodies would sway in the air. You’d see rows of 6, 7, 8, even 9 people hanging. Then we’d see them being taken down. It was so cold. It seemed that some of the corpses had frozen. Their feet and hands were frozen. They were taken somewhere and buried.”

The Execution of Post and Telegraph Minister Mirza Rabi Kabiri

The execution scene of General Mirza Rabi Kabiri - from the archive of Shapur Ansari.

General Mirza Rabi Kabiri was the Minister of Post and Telegraph and the governor of Maragheh under the Azerbaijani National Government. Shapur Ansari recalls what happened to him and his family:

“They kept Kabiri’s body on the gallows for so long… The women in our neighborhood were crying. They had seen his body and couldn’t bear it; they were weeping. Kabiri’s wife fell into such misfortune. People went to help her, though some were afraid…”