A Lesson in Freedom
BENTONVILLE - Kam Ghomghani is used to freedom. Like many Americans, he takes his freedom for granted. He admits it feels good that he can forget what his freedom costs.
Then a sniper shot Neda Soltan.
Soltan's death June 20 at an Iranian protest has become a rallying point for her countrymen and their demand for a change in government. But for Ghomghani, it's a replay of what happened 30 years ago.
At 16, Ghomghani left his native Iran and moved to America. He attended Arlington (Texas) High School and the University of Arkansas.
Back in the late 1970s, he heard of rumblings in his home country, but it seemed nothing would come of them.
"You really felt it wasn't going to happen," Ghomghani said. "The next morning, the bottom had fallen out and revolution had taken place."
Even Iranians outside of that country were forced to chose sides. In Ghomghani's case, his side was chosen for him. His family ties placed him, without his say, alongside the monarchy and the shah. At that point, he didn't even know if his family had survived; he was getting death threats from his former friends.
"All of a sudden, my ties to the country were cut," Ghomghani said. "The hope was gone. You didn't know who to trust."
Ghomghani's future and safety became even less certain when his student visa expired. He still thanks God for the church community that embraced him as its members began a campaign to keep him in America. Then the effort expanded.
"It wasn't just churches; it wasn't just Christians," Ghomghani said. "It was all the people in the community."
Today, 30 years after the Islamic Revolution, Ghomghani is still in northwest Arkansas. He works in Bentonville. He preaches at Winds of Worship Sanctuary in Rogers.
"I am very proud of where I was born," Ghomghani said. "I'm proud that my heritage comes from Iran. But I am proud of the fact that I am an American."
While Ghomghani has changed, the situation in Iran remains so familiar, but somehow more urgent. The youth of Iran are more educated than he was 30 years ago. Because of the Internet and other advances in disseminating information, they know what true freedom is, and they know they do not have that in Iran, Ghomghani said. They are now in the place of American patriot Patrick Henry, accepting only two outcomes: liberty or death.
The Iranian government's attempts to stop the flow of information proves the atmosphere has worsened.
"If it wasn't bad, they wouldn't shut down communication," Ghomghani said. "It's bad."
There is only one way for this to end, Ghomghani said: with violence and death. But this is a battle the Iranian people must fight on their own, he said, because freedom given does not have nearly the value of freedom earned. And the only way to earn it is through revolution.
"The smell of freedom is the bloodshed in the streets," Ghomghani said.
There is still room for American involvement, he said, just not in Iran. There are many Iranians living in this country, cut off from their families, alone, abandoned. Americans, he said, should take this opportunity to show the Iranians among them what a free nation can do with its liberties by embracing strangers in need of community and giving them a new home and a new family.
"Everybody deserves freedom," Ghomghani said. "Human beings are created to be free."
And now Ghomghani finds himself in a familiar situation, but playing a different role. Now it is his turn to embrace those watching the revolution from the outside, wondering if there is a home and a family left for them. On Tuesday night, he held a candlelit vigil in which he gave this same message, one of compassion and love.
"It's about treating each other right," Ghomghani said, "whether we like it or not."
