When I saw the images of Evin Prison’s front gate torn to shreds by an Israeli airstrike, my eyes filled with tears. I spent eight years behind that gate as a hostage of the Islamic Republic—held in a place where brutality is policy and hope is contraband. But my tears were not tears of joy. I wasn’t reveling in the thought that some of those responsible for tossing me—and later my ailing father —into solitary confinement were finally getting what they deserved. My heart was too tormented by

Tag-uri: Islam