The piece opens with voice notes exchanged with my cousin in Tehran, my childhood best friend unseen for 27 years, as internet servers fall under shutdown and cyberattack, and moves outward: into the Persian concept of ghorbat, the open-ended strangeness of exile; into the false binary Western media has imposed between supporting foreign intervention and tolerating the Islamic Republic’s repression; and into a genealogy of American and Israeli interference that has historically destroyed the very conditions for democratic flourishing.
Iran
The shouts. The demands. The pleas. The cries. They stretched from Tehran to Kurdistan across borders, lands, and waters.
A jittery world watches fascism on the march from Bolivia to India, and Twitter importantly doubles down on Indian food.
How place determines race for racially in-between immigrants. July 4, 2002, was a particularly humid Independence Day in […]