The Death of Muhammad Ali, the Death of Habib, and Our Torn Society

Muhammad Ali (or the one mistakenly known in our country as "Muhammad Ali Clay") passed away in America just this week. A few days ago, Habib Mohammadian, who had returned from America, also died in Iran. Muhammad Ali was a boxer and Habib was a pop singer, but do the deaths of these two have anything to compare? Muhammad Ali converted from Christianity to Islam about half a century ago. However, he is still part of the history of a country where the majority are Christian, and one of its presidential candidates seeks to limit the entry of Muslims into the United States. Muhammad Ali opposed the U.S. war in Vietnam. He refused to join the army and go to war. Initially, he was sentenced to prison and stripped of his championship title. The U.S. Supreme Court overturned this ruling in favor of Muhammad Ali. Nevertheless, Muhammad Ali was not excluded from the history of his country. In 2005, he received the Medal of Freedom from President George Bush. Although he had been stripped of his world championship title a few years after winning the Olympic gold medal (Rome 1960), he was the one who lit the Olympic torch at the Atlanta Olympics. In mourning for his death, he was spoken of everywhere, from the highest official ranks to the public media. He was publicly respected throughout the years. He had become part of the historical honors of a country that had fought against another part of its history of shame, because America is all of this: a collection of honors and shames. Despite the diverse social spectrum of the American people, and despite all the criticisms they have of the ruling system, its leaders, and many of its aspects, many of them are still attached to it and ultimately take pride in it, a pride that can be seen in the omnipresent flag in the lives of ordinary people. The tumultuous fate of Muhammad Ali reflects the essence of American society and history. Unlike us, who subtract from our own history and society, Americans strive to gather the separated pages of their history and recreate them, even if these pages are those of shame from slavery or the massacre of the indigenous peoples of this land or the atomic bombing against the Japanese in World War II. These efforts are not merely theoretical attempts that fade into eternal sleep in library books. It is a social effort to encompass more and more groups of people in the country and more sections of its history. It is an effort through art, literature, media, civil and political activities that ultimately leads to a sense of belonging and replaces exclusionary politics with inclusive politics. For these reasons, despite the diverse social spectrum of the American people, and despite all the criticisms they have of the ruling system, its leaders, and many of its aspects, many of them are still attached to it and ultimately take pride in it, a pride that can be seen in the omnipresent flag in the lives of ordinary people. Now compare this with a country that has exiled one of its presidents for nearly four decades and erases him from history, drives another president into a corner of isolation and hatred, and fears the appearance of another's photo in the media. It hides its penultimate president out of fear of disgrace and has removed its first prime minister from the official history page, while imprisoning its second prime minister. Even outside the realm of politics, the official policy of the country has censored much of its scientific, cultural, and artistic heritage, cutting out parts of its contemporary and classical art and artists, and attempts to discard them. One of the many cut-off figures was Habib, the singer. Just recently, Habib passed away without having the opportunity to sing in the homeland he eagerly returned to, so he would not be the lonely man of the night. After the revolution, he, like many pop singers, had no place in this country. He had to be excluded, just like those who remained, and just like those who left and no longer have a way back to their homeland. Those who remain and those who leave must be marginalized; they must live behind the veil of filters and censorship, even if they hold a place in the hearts of many people. This is how we wound our society by excluding parts of our culture, our history, and our people, leaving it like a torn body. All these are examples of our repeated separations and disconnections. However, ironically, when it comes to something called Iran, we want to unite and instead of subtracting, we silence parts of our history that are a source of shame or shamelessly defend them. In this way, we become part of that policy of exclusion and rejection. A policy that ultimately leaves behind a curated history for the hollow pride of its curators and the conflicts of today. CNN has recently begun airing a documentary titled "The United Shades of America," a phrase that subtly replaces 'states' with 'shades,' as if America is not a country made up of states or united countries, but rather a union of contrasts, of the various differences and contradictions that exist in this society, from the Ku Klux Klan to Latinos, from prisoners to prison guards, all those things that cannot be excluded from the history of this society, a diverse spectrum that together forms one thing: America. The opinions of the author in this article do not necessarily reflect the views of Radio Farda. Hossein Ghazian, an Iranian sociologist residing in America.