Paulo\u2019s book was a huge hit. We sold 10,000 copies in the first two months and demand for it spiralled. Distributors came to us, begging to take on the title and bookstores called us incessantly to order more copies. My publishing career had finally taken off. In the first year, we published 10 titles and our marketing campaigns, unprecedented in the history of Iranian publishing, attracted massive attention. Then I received an email from Paulo in which he mentioned his interest in visiting Iran.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Given the political context, we decided we couldn\u2019t invite him on our own. If he visited Iran, he would be the first non-Muslim Western author to do so since the 1979 Revolution. So I decided to consult both the Ministry of Culture and the International Centre of Dialogue among Civilizations, an organization founded by Khatami to promote dialogue between Iran and Western countries. I wrote letters to both, and they both responded by saying they would do everything they could to welcome this prominent Brazilian author\u2014though they couldn\u2019t pay for the costs of the visit! I wrote to Paulo and we decided to share the costs: he would pay for his flight and hotel and we would pay for everything else.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Paulo requested his visa be sent to the Embassy of Iran in Warsaw. He was visiting Poland before travelling to Iran.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
We began to plan: the places he had to visit, his conferences in Shiraz and Tehran, the book-signing session in one of Tehran\u2019s best bookstores and the press conference. We sent out press releases announcing his arrival at Mehrabad Airport on the evening of 25 May 2000. Moreover, during the Tehran International Book Fair, we began to register the names of participants for his conference in Tehran\u2019s former Opera House. In only a few days we had 5,000 names.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But then, a mere two weeks before he was due to fly to Tehran, Paulo called. \u2018Hi Arash, I\u2019m just on my way back from the Embassy of Iran in Warsaw. I asked them for my visa but they said they had no idea what I was talking about.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I said I\u2019d check with the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. When I called them, they said they needed four more weeks to process the request. I said that was out of question, that everything was already planned, that the Ministry of Culture and the Centre for Dialogue among Civilizations were involved, that thousands of people were waiting for him. But their only answer was, \u2018Sorry, we need four more weeks.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I called Paulo and explained everything. He remained silent for a few seconds, and then said: \u2018I am very upset, Arash. And this will not go unnoticed. I am a supporter of President Khatami, I believe he is doing really well. All I wanted to do was to visit Iran and see with my own eyes that this change and dialogue was real. I was planning to let the world know that they need to put aside their prejudices against Iran and accept it into the international community . . .\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u2018Perhaps we can reschedule the visit . . .\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u2018There will be no rescheduling, Arash. And I will let the world know how the government of Iran treated me.\u2019 the gaze of the gazelle<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Then, after a pause, he continued. \u2018I will go back to the Embassy the day after tomorrow. If my visa is ready by then, I will happily come to Iran. Otherwise this visit will never happen and I will not remain silent.\u2019 And he hung up.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I threw myself into a chair, desperate to find a way out of this mess. When I had announced that Paulo Coelho was visiting Iran, the media had received the news with scepticism; they couldn\u2019t believe that a small publishing house was able to pull of an event of such magnitude. If the trip was cancelled, they would never believe I had been telling the truth. This would discredit Caravan and the prestige and popularity that it had built up over the past year. Our reputation as the first publisher to respect international copyright and acquire the rights of an international author, the first publisher to modernize book marketing and promotion in Iran, and the first publisher to invite an international writer, would be destroyed in a minute.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But I knew there was nothing I could do. I simply sat and stared at the wall in front of me. Exactly five minutes later, my assistant opened the door. \u2018I\u2019ve just received a call from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs!\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u2018OK, put them through.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u2018They hung up but they left a message for you.\u2019 \u2018And?\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u2018They said that Mr Coelho\u2019s visa is ready at the Embassy of<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Iran in Warsaw and he can collect it tomorrow.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n
What?! I couldn\u2019t understand what had happened but I didn\u2019t need to. I called Paulo immediately and gave him the good news. He laughed and said, \u2018OK, then everything is all right and I am very excited. Thank the government of Iran for me.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Then I began to give him guidelines about what he and his wife could and could not do in Iran. His wife would have to cover her hair and remember to never shake hands with men. Also, that they couldn\u2019t drink alcohol.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u2018I don\u2019t mind not drinking but I\u2019m a smoker. I hope that\u2019s not going to be a problem.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n
No, it wasn\u2019t a problem. Everyone smokes in Iran, I explained. Later, when we met, he told me that his harsh tone on the phone from Poland had been deliberate. He was sure our conversation was being overheard by the authorities and that short speech had convinced the Ministry to change its mind and issue the visa.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n
I was incredibly excited. I was at the airport\u2019s VIP lounge at 2 in the morning, waiting for Paulo\u2019s plane to land, knowing that there were nearly a thousand fans waiting outside to see him. Paulo had touched thousands of lives in Iran even before his arrival. His books were about believing in dreams and following the signs. With their new-found hopes for freedom, people in Iran embraced his ideas. His ideas weren\u2019t new or original but the simplicity of his stories had tugged at their heartstrings. Since I became his publisher, we have sold millions of copies of his books and I know they have changed the lives of hundreds of thousands of people in my country. It was Neda\u2019s generation that was most affected by his literature.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Later, I realized that his impact was universal and that the key factor of his success could be summarized in a single word: passion. All the individuals who created the domestic and international success of The Alchemist<\/em> first fell in love with it and then decided to share their passion with others; a concept now forgotten but once one of the main founding principles in the publishing industry. This passion created the most powerful marketing communication tool\u2014word of mouth\u2014stronger and more effective than any advertising campaign.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The Alchemist<\/em> is the story of a boy who dreams twice of a treasure hidden near the Pyramids. He leaves behind the world he knows and sets off on a quest to find this treasure. He reaches the Pyramids only to realize that the treasure is waiting for him at home, at the very place where he dreamed of the treasure in the first place.<\/p>\n\n\n\n It may sound simple but the concept of travelling the world only to find the treasure at home has very deep roots in all sorts of myths and legends. The plot first appears, almost simultaneously, as \u2018In Baghdad, Dreaming of Cairo: In Cairo, Dreaming of Baghdad\u2019 in Book VI of Mathanawi<\/em> by Rumi, the thirteenth century Iranian poet, and in One Thousand and One Nights<\/em> where it becomes \u2018The man who became rich through a dream\u2019. It also appears in the seventeenth-century English folktale The Pedlar of Swaffham and several others. Later, it finds its way into a novel called Night under the Stone Bridge<\/em> (1952) by the Austrian writer Leo Perutz. Jorge Luis Borges, too, adapted it in his short story \u2018Historia de los dos que so\u00f1aron\u2019 (Tale of the two dreamers). That was in turn the source that inspired Coelho to write The Alchemist<\/em>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The recurring nature of the theme implies that the story appeals to people because its universal message addresses one of the most important sources of human anxiety, regardless of time, nationality, language or culture. Every human being has a dream. However, in order to adapt to a society demanding conformity, they often have to abandon their dreams and live with their regrets. The story asks people to trust their dreams, to be brave and to follow their individual paths. To do that, they don\u2019t have to be elite, intellectual, rich and flawless or even possess extraordinary strength. This is a path for ordinary people.<\/p>\n\n\n\n But Paulo\u2019s version was much more successful than its predecessors. When the book was published in Iran, there seemed to be no hope left for individuality; the excitement of the Revolution was over and people had lost hope that one day the world could live in \u2018peace and love\u2019, The Alchemist<\/em> told everyone that they could separate their personal destinies from society\u2019s standards and that the conspiracy theory was an illusion. This new hope was what people needed at the time.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The Alchemist<\/em> is full of archetypal symbols which appear in an apparently simple and straightforward style but which bear a deep and fundamental meaning that speaks to all: the alchemist; the wise old man; the female counterpart; the quest; the disguise; the thieves and warriors who try to postpone the mission; the four elements and several other symbols already established in the collective unconscious of the readers, especially in a culture like Iran\u2019s which is saturated with references to them. Iranians are familiar with these symbols from childhood through fairy tales, fables and myths and can instantly identify with them. Coelho used the known plot, the familiar characters and elements, the archetypal references and even the well-known style of fairy tales to revive an ancient but forgotten message: be brave; the real power lies within you, not outside.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The simplicity of style and language as well as the appeal of its story make it ideal for translation. It is the most translated book by a living author: it has been translated into 68 languages and sold more than 65 million copies in 150 countries.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Meanwhile, completely ignoring the views of the critics who claimed it to be a mere commercial product, I was waiting anxiously at the airport, sitting beside the Ambassador of Brazil and the delegates from the Ministry of Culture and the Centre of Dialogue among Civilizations. I had met the Ambassador a few days ago at the Brazilian Embassy, where he had invited me to discuss Paulo\u2019s trip. He had received orders from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs of Brazil to receive Paulo well. But he wasn\u2019t keen on Paulo\u2019s books and considered him very commercial.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018I will hold a reception at my house for him but I will not go to the airport. If I had not been instructed by the Ministry, I wouldn\u2019t do even this.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018Paulo Coelho is a writer, and you are an ambassador, not a literary critic,\u2019 I answered.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018But we don\u2019t want him to represent Brazil. We have many better authors.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018Mr Ambassador, so far the world recognizes Brazil as the land of football and samba. Why don\u2019t you let Paulo Coelho represent your country for something more meaningful, like literature?\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n He didn\u2019t say anything but he and his wife both showed up at the airport.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018I changed my mind,\u2019 he said, when I looked at him in surprise.<\/p>\n\n\n\n So there I was, waiting at the VIP lounge for the most important encounter of my life.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I was also anxious about the bodyguards. That afternoon, two armed agents from the Ministry of Intelligence and the Revolutionary Guard had arrived and introduced themselves as bodyguards for \u2018Mr PABILO KUBILO\u2019. I was immediately bombarded with questions about Paulo\u2019s visit.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018Are you bodyguards or interrogators?\u2019 I asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018We need to report Mr Pabilo\u2019s every move. And we are going to keep an eye on you as well.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n I said that I had already given the reasons for Paulo\u2019s visit to the Ministry of Culture, the International Centre of Dialogue among Civilizations and the Ministry of Foreign Affairs.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018Yes, you have. But now we need to know the REAL reasons.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n This was an old strategy, one with which I was only too familiar. I explained again that I was his publisher, that he was very popular in Iran, that he was in love with our culture and that he was looking forward to visiting the land of Rumi and Saadi and the Muslim mystics. I told them that he was a religious person and that he had no ties with politics.<\/p>\n\n\n\n They pretended to accept my explanation, although I knew they were looking for signs of something sinister.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018Whatever. We don\u2019t speak English. You\u2019re supposed to translate every word that Pabilo utters. Is that clear?\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n I said I was going to be too busy arranging everything. If the Ministry of Intelligence wanted to know what Pabilo said, they had better send a \u2018bodyguard\u2019 who understood English.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018That\u2019s the way it\u2019s going to be, Dr Hejazi. You don\u2019t want to say no to us.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n I said that I would interpret what he said if I wasn\u2019t busy doing a thousand other things.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I was pacing the corridor outside the VIP lounge when I saw a short man standing in front of me. I didn\u2019t recognize him at first: he was so different from his photos.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018Oh my god! You\u2019re so young! I\u2019ve never had a publisher this young!\u2019 Then he hugged me and introduced his wife, \u2018This is Christina.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n Christina was wearing a headscarf that covered all her hair and most of her face, and a long coat that covered her down to her ankles. She had taken my warnings too seriously.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018Hi Christina, I\u2019m Arash, very nice to meet you.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n She simply shook her head and said nothing. Later I realized she was scared to death as she stepped into the mysterious land of Iran. She was also under the impressions that women were not supposed to speak to men.<\/p>\n\n\n\n We went into the lounge. The representatives of the government and the Ambassador greeted and welcomed him. The Ambassador\u2019s wife laughed when she saw Christina wrapped in so much clothing and told her that she would give her a proper headscarf in the morning. The \u2018bodyguards\u2019 too, introduced themselves and greeted \u2018Mr Pabilo\u2019 in Persian and asked me to translate what they said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n We left the lounge and all of a sudden Paulo found himself among more than a thousand fans who burst into applause as soon as he entered the Arrivals area. The bodyguards stepped forward protectively. People held up their books, and Paulo asked the bodyguards to let him sign them. A dozen domestic and international reporters had arrived at the same time to cover the first Western author\u2019s visit to Iran.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Then we left for Hotel Homa, where we had booked a room for them. It was four in the morning when we left Paulo, Christina and the two bodyguards at the hotel but I had found a chance to have a private chat with Paulo, explaining that the two bodyguards were actually intelligence agents.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018I knew, Arash. Don\u2019t worry, I know how to handle them.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n We visited the Bazaar the next day, although the Centre of Dialogue had planned a lot of visits to museums. Paulo refused to go to any museums on the first day of his visit.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018I never go to museums. Whatever you want to show me, I can find online. What I can\u2019t find online is the actual life of the people. So I am going to the Bazaar tomorrow, and I am sure that Hamid and Khusro\u2014the bodyguards\u2014know a lot about the Bazaar and the life of people. They will show me around.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n So we went to the Bazaar. In the afternoon, when we returned to the hotel, about a hundred people were waiting for him. Instead of going to his room, Paulo sat in the lobby and chatted with them, drinking coffee incessantly, signing books, chatting, explaining, discussing scenes from his books, listening to tales from Iranian culture. Finally, he said he needed to go to his room and rest. Softly, he asked me to wait for a while. After half an hour, he returned, laughing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018The bodyguards are snoring. So I thought perhaps we could have a private chat.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n It was then that I met the real Paulo. He wanted to know about me, and he told me about himself. He believed I was too young to handle the situation and told me how to deal with the press, the government and the fans. He also said that he wanted to visit one of the Shia shrines if it were possible.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The next day was the fortieth day after Ashura, the anniversary of Imam Hussein\u2019s martyrdom. It was a day of mourning and Paulo wanted to watch the people. We went to the Shrine of Abdulazim, in South Tehran, after which the \u2018bodyguards\u2019 forced us to visit the graves of the martyrs of the war as well. My friend Farhad, from the Centre of Dialogue, was with us all the time. I was meeting him after 18 years. He was the one with whom I had founded the cooperative in our first year of junior high; we trusted one another.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018Listen, Arash,\u2019 he said, \u2018we have a mystical ceremony at home tonight. Do you want to bring Paulo? I\u2019m sure he\u2019d want to be present at an authentic Sufi ceremony.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n I told Paulo about it, and he was very keen to attend. But it was dangerous. The government of Iran did not approve of alternative religion, especially mysticism. Farhad, however, said it wouldn\u2019t be a problem because the Centre of Dialogue was under the protection of President Khatami.<\/p>\n\n\n\n So we set off for Farhad\u2019s that night, accompanied by the bodyguards who thought we were going to attend a traditional mourning ceremony. People sat on the chairs or on the floor in the large living room. Everything seemed as usual: people were chatting, drinking tea, eating dates, introducing themselves. Paulo was talking to a professor of physics who was also one of the most important mystics in Iran, and I was chatting with Maryam about the stress I was going through. The two bodyguards sat beside one another, whispering.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Then the lights went off. One of the guests took out his daf\u2014a Middle Eastern musical instrument mostly used during mystical dances\u2014and began to sing and chant and call on the name of Ali and other famous Iranian mystics. Many of the guests stood up and joined in the dance. Within a few minutes they were all in an ecstatic state, shouting, dancing, whirling. I whispered to Paulo, \u2018Don\u2019t be afraid. It\u2019s normal.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018Don\u2019t be stupid, Arash, I know.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n And then I noticed the two bodyguards leaving the house. I decided to follow them and see what they were up to.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018You left too? That\u2019s sacrilege, isn\u2019t it?\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n I lit a cigarette and answered, \u2018I needed a smoke. I\u2019m not really into mysticism.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018Oh yeah?\u2019 Hamid said, while Khusro stepped to one side and spoke into his mobile phone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018Your dear friend Farhad seems to be really into it, though.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018Oh no, he\u2019s not.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018He will pay for taking Pabilo to this heretic ceremony.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018It\u2019s not illegal, is it?\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018You were supposed to tell us the plans.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018I didn\u2019t know.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018We\u2019ll see.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n During the next 10 days, while we were travelling around the country, Farhad and the Centre of Dialogue were in trouble. Apparently the agents had called the Security Department the same night and they had begun to investigate the case.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Mysticism in Iran is older than religion itself. It\u2019s part of the soul of the nation. Indo-Iranian mystery religions have given birth to several schools of thought and religions around the world. Worship of the mysterious Iranian god of light and the keeper of promises Mithra found its way to the Roman Empire and became the foundation of the Mysteries of Mithras, particularly popular among the Roman armies. Most of the Mithraic rites were absorbed and reapplied by Christianity. December 25, celebrated as the birthday of Jesus, was originally the birthday of Mithras and the beginning of the winter solstice; it is celebrated widely in Iran as Yaldaa\u2014the birth\u2014marking the victory of light over darkness before the nights shorten towards the end of the year.<\/p>\n\n\n\n There are other parallels between Christianity and Mithraism: shepherds attending the miraculous birth of a saviour; the idea of eternal life gained from the blood of a sacrificed saviour; communion; the Last Supper; Mithras\u2019 ascension to Heaven during the spring equinox and his unification with the sun god; Mithras\u2019 heavenly titles \u2018light of the world\u2019 and \u2018messenger of truth\u2019; and baptism by the blood of the bull (lamb in Christianity); the Eucharist; and the idea of Mithras\u2019 eventual return to save the world.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Zoroastrianism was also a religion of mysteries in which the believers were regarded as warriors who had to take sides in the battle between Good and Evil. The idea of Satan, Apocalypse, the Last Judgement, Heaven and Hell have their origins in this mysterium. All these pre-Islamic Iranian mysteries were synthesized in third-century Manichaeism which then spread throughout the known world from China to the Pyrenees and survived for many centuries.<\/p>\n\n\n\n After the Muslims conquered Iran, the Iranians decided to camouflage their beliefs within Islam and they founded Shiism. Shiism was later divided into two paths: the orthodox religion or Sharia; and the mystic strand or Tariqa. The mystic strand was the continuation of Manichaeism and Mithraism and claimed that Ali was God\u2019s chosen representative in the same way that Mithra and Jesus were God\u2019s embodiment on Earth. It was even claimed that Ali was the reincarnation of the biblical Elijah or Ilia. It believed that mankind should communicate with God directly, instead of following the strict rules of the Sharia. Each person had a unique way of purifying himself or herself, and God wasn\u2019t a remote and vengeful being sitting on a throne but a harmonizing entity flowing through nature and connecting all beings. All were one. Love was the only thing that could keep this universal network going. And one had to get rid of his or her worldly prejudices in order to feel the presence of God. Sama, or the mystical dance, was a way of casting aside all assumptions and of experiencing God directly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n And it is as alive in today\u2019s Iran as it has been throughout history. And it is as frowned upon as it has been throughout history. Most of the Grand Muslim mystics, Sunni or Shia, died gruesome deaths and the stories of their lives form part of mythology. After the Revolution and under the pressure of the state-sanitized Sharia laws, people were turning to mysticism, more and more and the government did everything it could to prevent this. During Ahmadinejad\u2019s presidency, one of the prayer centres of the dervishes in Qom was attacked by the police and razed to the ground.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Paulo was fascinated with these rites and I made sure news of the trouble wouldn\u2019t reach him. I also needed to make sure that the journalists who accompanied him were not broadcasting any negative images about Iran. The \u2018bodyguards\u2019 had been quite explicit: if the Islamic Republic was hurt in any way because of this trip then it would be my responsibility. Farhad, on the other hand, was sacked a month later.<\/p>\n\n\n\n We went to Shiraz and visited the tomb of Hafiz, the great Persian poet, and to Persepolis. Paulo had two conferences in Shiraz which thousands attended. Then we returned to Tehran for his meeting with the Minister of Culture and his public speech at the Opera House.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The Minister of Culture, Dr Mohajerani, received Paulo at home. He was as popular as Khatami, and everyone believed he had the best chance of being Khatami\u2019s successor. He had publicly declared that he was against censorship and that an Islamic government should welcome the expression of contradictory ideas without doling out fear and persecution. He had already begun to abolish prepublication censorship by making it a matter of choice for the publishers. If they were happy to accept responsibility for what they published, the Ministry wouldn\u2019t scrutinize the books.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Unfortunately, he didn\u2019t get the chance to do what he wanted. He was forced to resign a year later and he never forgave Khatami for abandoning him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n But that day he was a popular minister and I was excited to meet him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n He lived in a simple house, with a very small living room where we all sat after the initial greetings. Then Paulo and the Minister began a philosophical conversation on the concept of divine omnipresence.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018God is on Earth, and Earth is part of God,\u2019 said Paulo, \u2018Different races are only there to create endless possibilities for communication and the movement towards a final unification. They may have conflicts or fail to understand one another but they are one. In the Iranian story, Conference of the Birds, by the Sufi Attar, thousands of birds set off on a quest to find Simorgh, the king of birds. But when they reach the end of their journey, they realize that Simorgh is nothing but all of them together. They are one, and they are many. The same applies to different cultures.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n The conversation went on for an hour or more. At the end, Paulo said that he was going to fund a literary prize in Iran to introduce Persian contemporary literature to the world. The Minister said that he would do anything to help, and he would also protect the copyright of Paulo\u2019s books. They shook hands and said goodbye. They were going to meet later that night at the reception organized by the Centre of Dialogue to which several Iranian authors and poets had been invited.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The Centre had managed to convince Paulo to visit at least two museums. Paulo had accepted grudgingly, saying he wanted to be left alone; he wanted to meet the people and observe the ordinary life of the city. He didn\u2019t want to be followed all the time. This was not going to happen, of course. On the other hand, the bodyguards had forced us to move Paulo and Christina to the Laleh Hotel that belonged to the Security Department. That way, they would have more control over what he did, whom he met and what he said over the phone. Of course, Paulo was smart enough not to use the hotel phone; he used a mobile phone I had lent him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n While Paulo was travelling around the country and visiting the Iran that the government wanted him to see, there were several things happening on the political scene.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The absolute triumph of the reformists in the parliamentary election was the last warning to the hardliners. Having lost two major pillars of power, the government and the parliament, they decided to act before they were excluded from power completely. The judiciary began by clamping down on the newspapers. In the course of a week, 70 independent or reformist newspapers were shut down by the order of the judiciary. Some days earlier, a few Iranian authors, journalists and intellectuals had attended a conference in Berlin to discuss the new developments in Iranian politics and the reformist movement. The idiotic behaviour of the opposition in exile had turned everything upside down. A woman stripped in public in the middle of the conference to show that she detested reform and to prove that the Islamic Republic had to be overthrown. This led to the arrest of all the Iranian intellectuals and authors who had attended the conference as soon as they came home to Tehran. Some of them, such as the prominent author Mahmoud Dowlatabadi and the contemporary poet Sepanlou were released shortly after but the reformist journalist and author Akbar Ganji was held in prison and remained there for another five years.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Dowlatabadi and Sepanlou were both invited to the reception that night, a few hours after their release. As Paulo announced that he was launching a literary prize for Iranian writers, Dowlatabadi came up to me and said, \u2018Does he know what\u2019s going on in this country? Does he know we were interrogated before this party?\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n No, he didn\u2019t. No one dared tell him what was going on and that it was only going to get worse.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Paulo\u2019s public conference was a huge success. Thousands gathered in the streets around the Opera House to get a chance to see their favourite author. The Opera House itself was packed. I couldn\u2019t believe my eyes; we, the five people who worked for Caravan Books, had managed to move several thousands. It made me feel a huge sense of responsibility. Paulo wasn\u2019t a rock star, he wasn\u2019t running for an election, he had never won a sports competition. He was, simply, a novelist, and there were thousands here to see him. Those who criticize him for being commercial have never been able to move such crowds nor affect lives in quite this way. I thought this was so only in Iran but when I accompanied Paulo on several signing sessions in various other countries, I realized he was able to touch people regardless of their backgrounds, race, nationality and religion. Isn\u2019t this an achievement? Isn\u2019t this the kind of globalization that is so sorely needed?<\/p>\n\n\n\n After a huge round of book-signing in the evening, when at least 10,000 fans blocked the streets for hours, and after a press conference and a Q&A, Paulo bade farewell to hundreds of his fans who had followed him to the airport. He left Iran promising he would be back in no time. That was 10 years ago and it hasn\u2019t happened yet.<\/p>\n\n\n\n After the plane had taken off, I was left drained of all the energy that had kept me going for the past 10 days. Maryam and I went home. I slept for 14 hours.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Next day, I was summoned by the Security Department to explain a few things. Why had I taken Paulo, a non-Muslim, to visit a Shia shrine? Why had I taken him to the night of the dervishes? Why had I not given a full report of whatever he had said during his visit? Why hadn\u2019t I translated for the bodyguards every single word he had uttered? Why couldn\u2019t I control the journalists who were accompanying him? Why had they been able to write about the Jewish inhabitants of Shiraz and the junkies on the streets? It went on . . .<\/p>\n\n\n\n I remained silent during the questions, then I showed them Paulo\u2019s interviews with the international media about his journey to Iran: he had only said good things about the country.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018But he has said that President Khatami is a brave man. What does he mean? Does he think that Khatami is brave enough to overthrow the Islamic Republic?\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n No, I said. It meant that Khatami was brave to try to and battle the prejudices against the Islamic Republic.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018Very well, then. But the Ministry of Intelligence is not happy about his popularity in Iran, and it will make sure that the Iranians understand that their own culture is much better than this Brazilian\u2019s mumbo-jumbo.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018Do whatever you think you should do.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018And we are going to keep an eye on you. How is it that you began to publish only two years ago, and your books have already flooded all the bookstores? Are foreign intelligence agencies funding Caravan?\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018Of course not,\u2019 I said, and explained how we had earned every penny through nothing but our hard work. They could check our accounts whenever they wanted. We had nothing to hide.<\/p>\n\n\n\n They asked if I had succeeded in convincing Paulo to convert to Islam.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018I\u2019m sure he was eager to,\u2019 I said, \u2018but the main obstacle is that he needs to be circumcised if he wants to convert. Can we exempt him from that part?\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n I thought they wouldn\u2019t fail to notice the sarcasm but they took me at face value and began to discuss seriously. \u2018Unfortunately it\u2019s not possible,\u2019 they finally concluded, \u2018he does have to be circumcised. But the procedure is totally painless nowadays. Please assure him that we can provide him with the best surgeons.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018Sure,\u2019 I said, \u2018I\u2019ll let him know.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n Paulo\u2019s visit to Iran sent ripples across the media, both in and outside Iran, and created the sort of publicity and prestige for Caravan that money could not have bought. We were on our way to becoming one of the most important publishing companies in the history of Iran.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Paulo had been fascinated by Iranian women. A few months later, when we met again in Barcelona, he told me, \u2018The Iranian women are genuinely beautiful. But what mesmerized me was their eyes. They have to cover their hair, their body, their legs and the only outlet for expressing their sexuality is their eyes. I\u2019ve never seen so much passion in a woman\u2019s eyes anywhere else in the world.\u2019<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n An enormous earthquake, registering 6.6 on the Richter scale, hit Bam, the 2,000-year-old city in south-eastern Iran. No one understood the scale of the destruction but the media were calling for help from doctors. Although I\u2019d given up medicine I realized I needed to be there. I don\u2019t know what compelled me to pick up the phone and call the Red Crescent\u2014the Islamic equivalent of the Red Cross\u2014and volunteer but I did it without a second thought. The earthquake hit the city early in the morning on Friday 26 December 2003; I was on the only plane leaving for Bam at 8 that same evening.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Dust, rubble, a city in ruins. The middle of the night. The temperature: 10 degrees below zero. No water, no electricity, no roads. Sitting in the back of a van, listening. Someone seems to be moaning. The cold wind blowing in your face, piercing your skin with a thousand icy needles. Turning your eyes this way and that, staring into the darkness. Every once in a while, a fire in a corner: the palm trees aflame. Palm smoke is poisonous but the people here have no choice: they are freezing in the bleak December air. The driver is asked to stop. My team and I move towards the fire, trying to see if we can help and if we can get a little warmth from the flames. Three people huddle around the glow. A woman lies on the ground. There are no blankets to cover her. Bleeding profusely, she has not even the strength to moan.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I sit beside her with my first-aid kit. Her femur is broken and she has lost at least a litre of blood. Her companions have tried to bandage the wound with a dirty rag. I have no light, no torches, nothing. I try to find a vein. I put in an IV. I take out a band-aid, write RED on it and stick it on her forehead. Everyone helps to move her into the van. Then we drive to the airport where a crisis headquarters has been set up. We have been told to do triage: to categorize patients into six colour-coded categories: WHITE, all right; GREEN, treatment on the spot, no need to transfer; YELLOW, transfer but low risk of death; RED high risk if the patient is not taken care of urgently; BLUE, no hope, this patient is going to die, don\u2019t bother; and \u2018BLACK\u2019, the patient is dead, ignore.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The chief of the Red Crescent apparently doesn\u2019t know that there is a seventh colour, too. The seventh colour that has no name. You are the seventh colour; you who have come to this city without roofs, where you don\u2019t have time to even comfort a dying patient. You are the seventh colour, as you are changed forever. You are the living dead. Mix the six colours and you have a seventh, the colour that defines you, you who are walking the deserts in the middle of the night, hoping to hear a cry, a shout, something.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The sun rises gradually and throws thousands of golden lances over the city without roofs. You see a house without three of its walls, and without a roof. Only one wall is left standing and on it a clock, a clock that still shows the time, ticking . . .<\/p>\n\n\n\n As the sun rises so do the cries. As if the dark and the cold of the night had numbed the grief and the sorrow. The sun should have risen sooner so that the young man could cry over the enormous grave which now holds his wife and two toddlers. The grave that was once his \u2018home\u2019.<\/p>\n\n\n\n People try pushing aside the rubble, to uncover the lifeless bodies of their loved ones or to hear a moan that would mean a life saved.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The van that took us to the city was gone. I begin walking the city, alley to alley, block to block. People are sitting on the ground, pale from fear and sorrow. I wish I had earplugs to block the unbearable sound of that silence. But I didn\u2019t, and couldn\u2019t. I had to be attentive to every movement, every sound. I was the seventh colour, waiting for a cry in the desert.<\/p>\n\n\n\n An old man calls out. \u2018Please help, my son is under these ruins.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018Sorry, father. I am a doctor. I can\u2019t remove that huge mound. And I don\u2019t think your son is alive.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018Please . . . I know he is . . .\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n I begin to help him. It will take ages. It\u2019s a waste of time. But I work until a group with their dogs arrives and lends a hand.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I begin to walk again. Sometimes I can help, open an airway, fix a dislocated joint, label people with colours. Someone\u2019s there, his liver\u2019s torn apart, he\u2019s scarcely breathing but there\u2019s a spark of life.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018RED, doctor?\u2019 the nurse accompanying me asks.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018BLUE\u2019, I say. There is no pulse.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018I want to try. Let me put an IV line into him.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018Do whatever you want.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n She brings the first-aid kit.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018Stop. It\u2019s BLACK now,\u2019 I say.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Everyone in the girls\u2019 university dorm is dead. Dozens of students. My knees are giving way. No more moans. No one left to save.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Then I hear someone crying. I run towards the sound. It\u2019s coming from under some bricks. I push them aside frantically, the nurse helps, too. A head appears. It\u2019s a woman, she\u2019s alive. It\u2019s an hour before we can take her out. She\u2019s pregnant. Her husband and brother are buried under the rubble but she knows they are dead. This unborn child, too, belongs to the seventh colour, in that city without roofs, schools, water, electricity, telephone, streets, dorms, banks, supermarkets, pharmacies. The child is still alive, ablaze with the seven colours.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The earthquake in Bam claims 50,000 lives.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I\u2019m been able to save only a dozen.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n Khatami\u2019s two terms as President passed in a trice. By 2005, we were a well-established publishing house, releasing about 150 titles a year and a very popular literary magazine called BookFiesta<\/em>. We had founded Iran\u2019s first book club and one of the first independent literary prizes in Iran called Yaldaa. We had 20,000 official fans who avidly read everything we published.<\/p>\n\n\n\n My second novel, The Princess of the Land of Eternity, was published in 2003 and met with huge success. It was officially declared a bestseller in only a few months and nominated for two literary prizes. For reasons that are beyond me, one of the passages in the book became widely quoted.<\/p>\n\n\n\n It is like the stare of a gazelle that has been fleeing from the hunter for many hours, and now lies on the ground, exhausted, with an arrow deep in her side. She lies down, warmed by her own blood. From where she is sprawled, she can see the brutal hunter approaching with a knife in his hand. Her gaze reflects neither hope nor despair. She has no desire. At this moment, a vague perception of life creeps into her veins, runs into her soul and spreads through her mind. How can I name your feeling at that moment anything other than the Gaze of the Gazelle . . .<\/p>\n\n\n\n Maryam had been promoted to managing director of a large company in a conglomerate and was very successful. I was both the managing director of Caravan Books and the editor-in-chief of BookFiesta<\/em>. We sold more than 1,000,000 books a year. We were an active member of the Union of Publishers and Booksellers and had an undeniable influence on the industry. All my dreams seemed to be coming true.<\/p>\n\n\n\n But, for the past three years, hopes for further reform had been fading rapidly. Khatami had failed to fight for the rights he had promised the people. The younger generation had lost faith in the reformist movement. Khatami\u2019s Minister of Internal Affairs, who had struggled so hard to support the formation of independent parties and re-established city councils, had been impeached and imprisoned for questioning the absolute authority of the Supreme Leader. Minister of Culture Ata\u2019ollah Mohajerani had been forced to resign, and had fled the country fearing persecution. Saeed Hajjarian, a prominent reformist figure and Khatami\u2019s senior consultant, had been paralyzed for life after an assassination attempt by a hardliner; the assassin was released from prison shortly after being sentenced to life imprisonment. The Guardian Council had disqualified most of the reformist candidates for parliament despite Khatami\u2019s threats that he would resign. He didn\u2019t. Most of the newspapers had been shut down. The Ministry of Culture had been overtaken by hardliners who had reinstated official censorship. Corruption had infiltrated all levels of the public administration and people were beginning to believe that reform would go nowhere as long as the Supreme Leader had absolute power and the Guardian Council prevented independent figures from entering the political scene.<\/p>\n\n\n\n But something in society had changed: there was a new generation on the scene. Neda\u2019s generation, not yet born at the time of the Revolution, had only a vague idea of the years of war and oppression and all the atrocities of the regime. It had grown up experiencing a gradual opening up of society, with PCs, satellite TV, the Internet and mobile phones, and it was not as naive as we had been. This generation was not going to give up the comparative freedom that had been achieved during Khatami\u2019s presidency. It had not experienced the horrors of my generation: it had not lost friends to the firing squads and it had not witnessed how a strong man could crumble under torture in the interrogation rooms of the Islamic Republic. All it knew was that beyond the borders of Iran lay a world where people were free to do what they wanted and say what they wished. They could read and wear what they wanted and celebrate life. And this generation wanted that life, too.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Most important, it had arrived at the belief that freedom was the only thing in the world worth dying for. Women who, during Khatami\u2019s reign, had managed to re-establish their position in society as workers, writers, poets, artists, filmmakers, entrepreneurs, managers and politicians, were not going to give up their hard-won independence.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The student movement was there to stay, too. Although politically active students were persecuted, sometimes even expelled from university or imprisoned, they continued actively to challenge tyranny. What most surprised me was that the Islamic Association of University Students, responsible for spreading terror during my student years, was now the forerunner of the freedom movement. The regime was reaping its own rewards. It had sponsored anyone whom it had assessed as a loyalist, it had cleared the path for such people to enter higher education and it had supported them all the way. During my time as a student, I could feel their views changing. Those who were always looking to report \u2018misconduct\u2019 among their fellow students had become doctors and now wanted to be accepted by their colleagues. They had realized that there was diversity in the world, that everyone was entitled to believe in whatever they wanted: that difference led to a much more interesting society. This was exactly what had happened to Dr Muhammadi in the Revolutionary Guard.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Now the Islamic Association would be satisfied by nothing less than a secular government. An organization nurtured by the fundamentalist, religious government was no longer loyal to that government. Most important, the Islamic Association knew, inside out, the foundations and behind-the-scene interactions of the regime. The 2005 presidential election was drawing near and there was an unspoken consensus among the people to boycott it. They believed that Khatami was the best that could come out of this election and even he had not been able to fulfil his promises.<\/p>\n\n\n\n By then, I was a consultant to Tehran\u2019s Union of Publishers and Booksellers and we were trying hard to convince the Ministry of Culture to reduce its renewed grip on the control and censorship of books. I had covered most of Europe alongside Paulo and had many adventures\u2014perhaps that will be another book\u2014and made many friends in the publishing world. But Caravan was out of favour with the Ministry of Culture; it believed we were propagating \u2018deviant\u2019 Western culture among the young and, although it didn\u2019t try to shut us down, it tried to paralyze us by not authorizing many of our books.<\/p>\n\n\n\n In 2003, the Freedom to Publish committee of the Union sent an open letter signed by the President of the Union to President Khatami, reminding him of his promises and the illegality of prepublication censorship. We requested him to abolish the sophisticated system of censoring books prior to publication: \u2018censorship means prioritizing the opinion of a few over the taste and choices of a mature nation, and indifference to the right of freedom of speech as an inseparable right alongside other kinds of rights of a nation\u2019. We also spoke of the \u2018indifference to the rights of authors and publishers and the choices of the readers\u2019, and the authorities\u2019 view of the nation as \u2018immature\u2019. We concluded with the claim: \u2018The only way to put an end to the ambiguous, confused and unstable situation of books is to abolish censorship.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n Khatami never replied to our letter. However, two years later, we realized he had tried to pursue the case but his efforts had been neutralized. It seemed he had lost control over everything, and that was what disappointed people most. The president did not issue an order revoking prepublication censorship and no further actions were taken on the subject. It was as if an authority more powerful than the president had intervened and impeded any efforts towards the abolition of censorship.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n Although Mohajerani had promised Paulo that he would support his contract with Caravan regarding the Persian rights to his books, the next minister decided to withdraw the protection: it was apparently against the law to prevent other publishers from publishing a foreign author\u2019s books without paying any royalties to them! So, despite the fact that we were his official publisher, 27 other publishers also brought out his books. People trusted our translations because they were recognized by the author. We also enjoyed the privilege of receiving his new manuscripts months in advance of their publication anywhere in the world. We held 80 per cent of the market share of his books. But there were parts of the market that were controlled by publishers and distributors who had oversaturated those segments with their own versions of Paulo\u2019s titles.<\/p>\n\n\n\n When I received the manuscript of Paulo\u2019s latest book The Zahir<\/em> in 2005, an idea struck me: there was a way around this.<\/p>\n\n\n\n There\u2019s a clause in Iran\u2019s national copyright law which states that only works that are first published in Iran are protected by Iranian national copyright law. So, if we could publish the book in Iran before any other country, it would be protected. I shared the idea with Paulo and he agreed. The Iranian newspapers all had the same headline: \u2018Iran the first country to publish Paulo Coelho\u2019s latest book, The Zahir<\/em>\u2019 and we sold thousands of copies immediately before the Tehran International Book Fair that year. We decided to make a big splash with the new book and stocked 4,000 copies of it at our stand at the Fair.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Tehran\u2019s Book Fair, described as the largest book fair in Central Asia and the Middle East, is the most important event for publishers in Iran. They meet their customers face to face, meet publishers from other countries, sell books and increase their cash flow. The inefficient distribution system makes the Fair an extremely important marketing and sales opportunity for publishers. It is also a major cultural festival for the public, especially young people, and every year it enjoys more than 3 million visitors. It is an opportunity for readers to access new titles from Iranian publishers as well as a selection of books from international publishers. No professional publisher can ignore the importance of the Fair, both for its prestige and as a major source of revenue.<\/p>\n\n\n\n We began a direct-mail campaign by way of advertising Paolo\u2019s book. We edited the footage of his interview on The Zahir<\/em> and added Persian subtitles, and we were ready to break the sales record for any title in the history of the Fair.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Over the past years, our stand at the Fair had become extremely popular. We sold tens of thousands of books during those 10 days and the authorities were never happy about the crowds that gathered around our stand. They were young boys and girls, talking, meeting their favourite authors published by us, discussing literature, buying books. People travelled long distances, from the remotest parts of Iran, to come to the Fair. That\u2019s why one of the first things that Ahmadinejad did when he came to office was to move the Fair\u2019s location to the great Musalla or prayer mosque of Tehran and destroy that atmosphere once and for all.<\/p>\n\n\n\n We sold 3,000 copies of The Zahir<\/em> on the first day of the fair. People waited for hours in long queues to get a copy which had in the meantime received good reviews, despite Coelho\u2019s lack of popularity among the intellectuals. On the second day, when I got to the book fair at 9.30 in the morning, two bearded men, accompanied by an official from the Book Department were at our stand, waiting for me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018Hello Dr. Hejazi, how are you?\u2019 said the official, Mr Kamali, who knew me very well.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018Hello Mr Kamali,\u2019 I said, looking suspiciously at the two bearded men.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018This is Dr Hejazi, Responsible Manager of Caravan.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n They shook hands with me, unsmiling.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018How can I help, Mr Kamali?\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018How many copies of The Zahir<\/em> have you got in the stand?\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n I asked our sales manager. She said we had about a thousand.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018OK, Dr Hejazi, these brothers need to take all the copies you have. You will not be able to sell them anymore.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018What?\u2019 I shouted.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018I am sorry for the inconvenience. But they need to take the books now.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018But why? The book has got prepublication and distribution permission. What has happened?\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018It is better you don\u2019t ask questions,\u2019 one of the men said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018Who are you anyway?\u2019 I asked, angrily.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018These brothers are from the Security Department.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018What security protocol have we breached with this book?\u2019 I said, sarcastically.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018You\u2019d better watch your mouth!\u2019 said one beard, \u2018This book has been declared harmful, poisonous and deviant.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018Poisonous?\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018Yes, and before we raid your stand in front of all these people you\u2019d better give us the books.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018Are you going to pay for them?\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018Sure,\u2019 he said, laughing. \u2018With 100 per cent discount.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018OK then, can you show me any written orders to confiscate these books?\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018We don\u2019t need to show you anything.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018Can I have a receipt for the total number of the books you are confiscating?\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018There\u2019s no need for a receipt.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018I can\u2019t let you take our books away without any evidence. I have to report to our board. How can I convince them that you just took a thousand copies of a book?\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018Ask them to call us if they have any questions.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018Can I have your phone number?\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018No you can\u2019t.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018Then, I\u2019m sorry, I can\u2019t help you.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n Mr Kamali said, \u2018Dr Hejazi, be reasonable, please.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018Reasonable? You are taking away our stock without any explanations and I\u2019m the one being unreasonable?\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n The beard took out his gun and put it on his lap.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018So? Are you going to shoot me in broad daylight, in front of all these people? It\u2019s armed robbery!\u2019 I said, smiling.<\/p>\n\n\n\n My colleague Muhammad tried to convince me to let them take the books. He said they were dangerous.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018OK, take them,\u2019 I said finally. \u2018But I\u2019m telling you, I will let the world know what you did.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n The beards took all the copies and the one who had been doing the talking took me by the arm and pulled me aside. \u2018You will not talk about this to anyone, if you want you and your family to be safe. And you will come to the Security Department after the Fair to answer a few questions regarding this author and your loyalty to the Revolution.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n I was so enraged I ignored his warning. I called Paulo right away and told him everything that had happened.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018Arash, my concern is not the book but your safety. Why do they want you to report after the Fair?\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018I don\u2019t know, Paulo. They are taking control of the country. The presidential election is round the corner, and they want to keep everything under their control. They have already disqualified most of the reformist presidential candidates.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018OK, the best way to keep you safe is visibility. I\u2019ll take care of it.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018I\u2019m not sure how they\u2019ll react if news gets out.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018Don\u2019t worry. Once the news is out they can\u2019t touch you.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n That same night, news of The Zahir<\/em> being banned and confiscated in Iran took over the international media: the BBC and AFP published detailed reports, and several outlets contacted me for an interview. I gave the interviews and I insisted that Paulo\u2019s popularity had frightened the hardliners in the regime.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Next day, I was taken away by the two beards as soon as I arrived at the Fair. They interrogated me for hours. Why had I talked to the deviant international media? Didn\u2019t I know the BBC was controlled by the Zionists? Hadn\u2019t they told me to shut up? Didn\u2019t I know that they could make me disappear? and so on.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I answered all the questions calmly. I said I was interested neither in politics nor in making news. But I was interested in my books and I wanted to be able to sell them. I hated making a financial loss.<\/p>\n\n\n\n They let me go after they were finished with me. I had been prepared for worse but, amazingly, Paulo had been right. They no longer bothered me; the next day, they returned all the copies they had confiscated.<\/p>\n\n\n\n There isn\u2019t much to say about the 2005 presidential election. While the majority of society who were disappointed with Khatami\u2019s presidency didn\u2019t vote, Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, Tehran\u2019s mayor about whom no one knew anything, won the election. Some said that the election was rigged. Some said he won by promising to bring fundamental changes to the government and promoting the interests of the poorer classes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n He won, and we who knew him, realized that the darkest days were yet to come.<\/p>\n\n\n\n26 December 2003: 1.56 a.m. Bam.<\/h3>\n\n\n\n