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Thoughts About Iran on Twelfth Night

It is January 5th, Twelfth Night, an ancient celebration of the night the Three Kings (or Three Wise Men) arrived in Bethlehem with their gifts for the newborn Jesus. I think of the old Christmas Carol describing the journey of these Kings (“field and fountain, moor and mountain”) and am swept away to Iran, to the province of Yasd, where, riding on a bus four years ago I am informed that we are on the very  route  they followed to Bethlehem.

Through the bus window I saw desert (Yazd gets 2 in of precipitation a year). But scattered about were small geometrically- shaped fields and orchards, brilliant green, watered, I learned, by underground pipes laid 3,000 years ago, coming from faraway mountains.

I saw a few nomad families, who weave the famous Persian rugs, even as they follow their sheep. I imagined the Kings, passing through on their camels, stopping at caravanserais during the day, because it is so hot.

The US is ravenous to destroy Iran. It’s hard to know if the CIA instigated the recent demonstrations as Iran claims but it is our usual modus operandi. UN Ambassador Haley’s bloodthirsty cries (“The people of Iran are crying out for freedom! All freedom-loving people must stand with their cause!”) certainly match, in both intensity and ignorance, those of Secretary-of-State Clinton, before we destroyed Libya seven years ago.

Our role in Iran’s impoverishment however is undeniable. As the three Wise Men swung along on their camels, discoursing on Peace (for that is what they thought the Baby was to bring) could they possibly have conceived of such malignant phantoms, in their starlit visions,  as The Plan for the New American Century and its vicious nihilism, 2000 years into the future?