Iran’s girls brave its mullahs

Two years ago Commander Neda was a second year student studying computer science at Ottawa’s Carlton University in Canada when she decided to join the NLA. She flew to Jordan and then travelled across the desert to Iraq to begin her training. She is now based in Ashraf camp, one of 17 NLA military camps on the salt plains of Iraq.

“I lived in Canadafor 11 years and considered it my home. My father, a taxi driver, and my mother left Iran to settle there,” she shouted above the noise of the tank engine. “I knew what was going on in Iran through relatives, and I read in the newspapers and magazines. Women my age are very restricted in what they can do in Iran. I decided I couldn’t stand it any more and realised the only way to help the women of Iran was to fight. My parents honoured my decision and my 17-year-old brother, Ali, is thinking about joining.”

According to NLA spokesman Farid Suleimani, more than 400 Iranians a month are volunteering for the army and claims a rise of 500 per cent in the past two years. “As things get worse in Iran an increasing number of the sons and daughters of Iranian exiles from Europe and North America are joining.The bulk of the army, however continues to be made up of Iranians who have made the arduous and often dangerous journey from Iran to Iraq. Many respond to radio broadcasts transmitted from the base atAshraf, one of its biggest military camps.

Helicopter pilot Mojgan Taqipur, 24, fled Iran to join the NLA six years ago with her mother and younger brother. The journey involved a difficult two days through mountains on mules via Kurdistan. Her father remains apolitical prisoner in Iran.

“I was a high school graduate and would have liked to have studied electrical engineering, but this was closed to women. It wasn’t said explicitly men only, but it was made difficult for women to enroll. We sold our house to pay for the journey and planned it step by step,” she said, adding, “I never imagined I would be a pilot. It was simply beyond my imagination. I did not believe that women could go into combat. But this is a war situation and we go into enemy territory with our helicopters.’

Eighteen-year-old Laleh Daei arrived at the Ashraf base a month ago from the English university town of Cambridge and still has a golden stud firmly fixed in her tongue. She originally arrived in Iraq when her mother,Commander Jaleh Daei, joined the NLA in 1987 but was sent to stay with an aunt in the UK at the outbreak of the Gulf War in l991. It was the last time she saw her mother. Her father had been executed earlier in Iran for mujahideen activities.

“I am just a normal British girl,” Laleh, says, the stud in her mouth occasionally flashing. I had finished my A levels (final school exams) and decided to take a year off before starting media studies at university. I went to Paris to work for my uncle. I had my own studio flat there, boyfriends, the usual stuff.

“After my father died, my mother later told me that he had said he wanted me to continue the struggle. I guess that somehow caught up with me. Being mujahideen runs in your blood. When I got here I understood everything and why my mother had done what she did.” Laleh’s days are now spent learning marching drills and how to use a Kalashnikov. “When you come from England and you’ve never seen a gun before, it’s strange. The only thing I miss is the rain.It’s so dry here,” she says.

Within a year she could be driving tanks like Commander Neda, who constantly dreams of going into battle. “I keep wondering what it will be like to be in battle, what it will feel to be in a tank going to fight the mullahs,” she says.

— Observer News Service