Leaving Iran I was born in Tehran in 1982, in the aftermath of the Islamic Revolution in 1979. My mother, Zohreh, and my father, Abbas, as well as one (perhaps two?) of my mother’s brothers, in addition to two of my father’s brothers, were all members of a group called Mujahedin-e Khalq-e Iran (MEK), or
[Stalin’s] fear of western penetration [after World War II] featured even more strongly in the purge of the Jewish Anti-Fascist Committee (JAFC). The JAFC was one of a number of anti-fascist organisations set up by the Soviets during the Great Patriotic War. Its job was to rally support for the USSR among Soviet Jews and
“My love, I am writing to you in a hurry … Ullstein informed me that the Zeppelin will probably leave on March 24th, so I must leave Berlin on the 21st in the evening. Besides, they want me to speak with the captain of the Zeppelin, M. Eckener, who will be in Berlin on the
In 1994, I hitchhiked to Ukraine. A long-haired high school student, I was eager to explore what my whole life had lain beyond the family’s holiday plans. For us, children of the Cold War, the Soviet Union was something colourless, menacing and intriguingly off limits.
