A Call from the Future to 1977

A dialogue in which an old man calls his younger self in early 1977. “Hello? Mr. Hashem?” Young Hashem answers. “Hello? Yes, speaking. Who is this?” “Hashem, I’m calling from the future, forty-six years from now.” “What are you talking about? I asked who you are.” “Hashem, don’t go. Don’t go to the demonstrations. Don’t betray the Shah and the country.” “What? Who are you, a SAVAK agent?” “Hashem, everything they’ve told you, everything they’ve put into your head, is a lie. These clerics have ruined all our lives.” “The clergy? Speak respectfully about the Imam and the clergy.” “Khomeini can go to hell. He ruined us. Hashem, don’t do it.” “Imam Khomeini will save us. He’ll set us free.” “You fool, free you from what? You already have everything. What freedom are you looking for?” A woman cries out through her sobs. “Give me the phone. Hashem! It’s me, Zari, your wife. You bastard, don’t do it. You’ve made all of us miserable.” “Zari? Is that you? What’s this man talking about? Where are you?” “That man is your own foolish self, Hashem. Morteza, our son Morteza, they’re going to execute him.” “What are you saying? My God, what’s happening?” Zari, weeping, says, “Morteza went into the street to call for the very freedom you have, you wretched man, the freedom we still didn’t have forty-six years after your revolution. Your Imam’s agents arrested him, and tomorrow they’ll execute him. “Damn you, don’t go! Don’t betray the Shah and Iran. They took our life and our child from us. I tried every possible way, begged everyone I could. Nothing helped.” Beep, beep, beep. The call ends. For forty-six years the country has paid for the greatest mistake in its history, made by a group of gullible people who fought for what they already had. Long live the Shah.