I grew up in Tehran during war. As a child, I slept under a wooden bed propped up by my mother’s medical textbooks, hoping they might shield me if the windows shattered from Iraqi bombs. Explosions became part of daily life. Anyone who has lived through that kind of fear does not romanticize war. It leaves scars that last a lifetime. For nearly half a century, the Islamic Republic has portrayed itself as the victim of outside aggression , as if conflict were something imposed upon it. It is a

Tag-uri: Islam