Ostad Shajarian, Voice of Iran, Dies
Mohammad Reza Shajarian, Legendary Iranian Singer (Wikipedia)
Singer, composer, dissident, and lover of the Iranian people Mohammad Reza Shajarian died Thursday in a Tehran hospital after a long battle with kidney cancer. The towering figure, referred by most simply as Ostad (master), was buried Saturday in the mausoleum of revered 10th-century poet Abul Qasem Ferdowsi in accordance with his wishes and out of respect for his influence on Iranian culture.
Upon his death, and in defiance of a partial lockdown, thousands of fans gathered outside the hospital to mourn Shajarian’s death. The memorial quickly transformed from open weeping and singing Shajarian’s most famous songs to an anti-government protest, as some mourners began chanting “Death to the dictator,” referring to Iranian President Hassan Rouhani.
Shajarian’s songs often contained subtle political metaphors, but he never spoke out directly on politics until the 2009 Green Movement protests against the reelection of former Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, an election many Iranians believed to be rigged. Shajarian spoke out against the regime, and when Ahmadinejad called the protestors “dust and trash,” Shajarian responded by telling a BBC reporter, “I am the voice of dust and trash, and my voice will always belong to dust and trash.”
When the government banned him from performing in Iran, he responded by insisting that the government stop playing his songs, which he thought the state-run media had co-opted. In June of 2009, he told BBC Persia, "Every time I hear my own voice on this media, my body shakes and I feel ashamed...These songs that I sang in 1979 and 1980 were for the uprising that the people made, it was for that movement…”
Despite, and perhaps because of, the government’s bans, Shajarian became even more popular. One of his most popular songs is “Morghe Sahar” (“Bird of Freedom”), which describes a bird that, first lamenting the singer’s pain, is asked to free an oppressed people and make their suffering brief. Shajarian would end all of his concerts with this song, leaving the audience in tears. His beautifully sung verse of the Koran, titled“Rabena,” was played on state broadcasts for 30 years until he fell out of favor with the regime. Iranians would listen to this song before breaking their fast during Ramadan, and one Iranian told the Guardian that “Ramadan without ‘Rabena’ is like Christmas without Christmas carol.” During the 2009 protests, Shajarian transformed a Persian poem called “Language of Fire and Iron” into a powerful song that decried violence and pleaded for dialogue and mutual understanding.
A sense of lost potential for Iran permeates Shajarian’s works, a kind of striving and mourning for something that no longer exists. “I am Mohammad Reza Sharjarian. Son of Iran,” Shajarian says in a 2015 documentary about his life. “My voice is among the ancient voices of Iran that wants [sic] to be remembered as the type of people we were. People of humanity, love, peace, and purity.”