An Iranian Jew who fled the Iranian Revolution
This man shared his own story in person to my class about the Iranian Revolution. He just sent us an article that was written last year about his life. So here it is..the story of Albert Elay Shaltiel.
Written on June 4, 2011, by Yehoshua Ashkenazi.
As a boy, Albert Shaltiel saw how the streets of Iran darkened and how Islam took over every aspect of people's lives. He heard music being played behind closed doors and he saw people being beaten with whips. He escaped through the deserts of Pakistan, but was caught. During his imprisonment he was tortured but still found the fortitude to attempt escape for a second time. This time he went through enemy villages, unsympathetic police forces and bandits. His painful journey ended in New York. Today he lives in Modi'in.
He stands up, bounces from one foot to the other, waves his hands, and shows how he was handcuffed; how they danced to Michael Jackson in secret. He sits down, takes a deep breath and speaks in Hebrew with a Persian/American accent. He flips to another slide in his computerized presentation and starts the whole dance all over again. He gets up, bounces from one foot to the other, waves his arms, jumps, kicks his feet in the air…he is ecstatic.
Albert Shealtiel, 42 years old, is married with one child. He relives his memories of his childhood in Iran and recounts them throughout the world; in Jewish communities, in colleges and universities throughout the United States, in churches and in schools. He combines his own personal experiences with those of the Persian Kingdom over a 3500 year span. He speaks enthusiastically about the Iranian culture, its beauty, its philosophy, science and archeology.
During his lectures he shows pictures that tell a story. He alternately laughs at and is furious with Khomeini, because he is the cause of the Islamic Revolution. He makes fun of Ahmadinejad by calling him the "New Hitler" and mocks him through a series of pictures and caricatures. He shows photos that teach about the culture and art that were once Iran, and immediately following it is a slideshow of the citizenry being beaten and hanged in public city squares.
He loves Iran to the depths of his being but is angry at her for what is happening there today. Listening to him speak you hear the drama unfolding. It seems as though everything is a backdrop for what happened to him when he was a sixteen year old boy; his homeland forcing him to run away from her and escaping death at every turn.
The Shaltiel family is originally from Isfahan, which was the former capital of the Iranian monarchy. The family migrated to Tehran, which ultimately became the capital city. Albert's father, like many Jews, earned his living in textiles and also invested in real estate. They were affluent and lived comfortably. In 1969 Albert was born, the fourth of five children at the Doctor Sapir Hospital in Tehran. Above the entrance to the Jewish hospital is a sign that reads "Love thy neighbor as thyself". About 90% of the children in the city were born in this hospital and it is still in operation today. In those days, the Shah, the king of Iran, Mohammad Reza Shah Pahlavi, ruled with a civil constitution and no religious oppression. Israel and Iran had an amicable and peaceful relationship. The Shah would travel to Israel for medical treatments and likewise, the Shaltiel family would go there for visits and return with holy books and pictures of Moshe Dayan and Eli Cohen, Our man in Damascus.
Albert and his siblings studied at two schools, "Gange Danesh" and "Otsar Hatorah" that were affiliated with the Alliance Francis chain. They also attended the "Khalutz" youth movement which was active for several years before and which even had Israeli flags and maps hanging. The underlying ideology was the dream of making aliyah.
But there was something else in the background. Something dark and eerie that began to permeate the air in Iran. Ayatollah Khomeini, in exile in Iraq and after in France began to gain support. The national incitement against the United States and Israel began to spread to the streets of the cities and revolution was in the air. Those who understood what was happening began to pack their belongings: rugs, expensive furniture, jewelry, stacks of dollars. With these items, they were able to begin new lives with economic security in Los Angeles and in Israel.
In 1978 when Albert Shaltiel is nine, the life he knew in Iran ceased to exist. Everything was black. The nights were filled with arrests, streets filled with tanks, screams of "Allah Akbar" (God is Great). The streets teemed with fear. The Jews were cast with a double whammy: They were also Jews and also Israelis that identified with the greatest enemy of all, the United States of America.
"It was Friday night, the Sabbath eve, Albert reminisces, when we were in the synagogue along with the congregation of 500-700 fellow worshippers. Suddenly, there was a loud noise of breaking glass. After a few minutes a couple of the men returned with blood on their bodies. They had tried to protect the synagogue when the police arrived. I remember many burning tires, smoke and soot. You could smell the fear and feel the message of the Islamic revolution. It was like election eve only ten times worse. On all the walls and buildings were pictures and posters of the Ayatollah. For two years, 365 days per year and 24/7 was the constant chirping of propaganda; in the newspapers on the radio, and on television. Revolutionary songs, pictures of the jihad, and the grand prize of all, the 72 virgins awaiting the martyrs in the Garden of Eden. This was the first time this imagery was used. It was Satan's work. The revolution already had a fertile base and one wintry day, the beloved Shah left the country.
Two years passed since the start of the Revolution and a different enemy wages war. Sadam Hussein sends the Iraqi army to war with Iran. This begins a war with no distinctions. Millions of young people, teens and children are sent to the Front. The ideology is strengthened particularly amongst the villagers who are ignorant and uneducated. Each village volunteers hundreds and thousands of its children to the blood saturated battlefield. This ideology caused too much bloodshed, created too many lies, and a whole lot of nothing, in Shaltiel's opinion.
At a certain point, the older Jews were drafted into the army. I was already a high school student in 1985, but found myself in army drills. The high school, which was affiliated with the Alliance Francaise chain, included in its population Jews and Moslims alike. Prayers like "Shema Yisrael" were discontinued and Jewish studies, which once were taught for 30 hours per week dropped to one hourly class per week. The vice principal would go to the front and return with stories and lessons on operating weapons. When the teacher spoke about the 'Uzi', the Israeli machine gun I raised my hand and said I knew where it was from. My fellow classmates yelled at me that they knew it came from "my country".
The Islamic rule in the streets became a reality; he describes the evolution of events. When I was sixteen I had a motorcycle. My fellow cyclists were a group of twenty, guys and girls. It was forbidden to have mixed socializing. We would go into someone's house, blacken the windows and play Michael Jackson music and break dance. Even though the Extremists tried to curtail all influence of the West, somehow it still reached us. We would have paid dearly if we were caught. The preservation (of Islamic rule) police would catch people not obeying and whip them in the middle of the street. They would travel by motorcycle and encircle a park and start hitting citizens whose attire or hairstyle they didn’t approve of. They would violently force people into vehicles and they were usually never heard from again. There was a tremendous amount of fear and danger in the streets. But within all the fear and danger the underground life was great.
I am going to escape Iran and join my brother, who left Iran before the revolution with the help of Chabad representatives, in New York. But how? To the north is Russia, which isn’t an option. To the west is Iraq, which during the war isn’t a possibility. Once there was a narrow pass through Turkey but that too has been shut. The only options are to go through Afghanistan, which is controlled by the Soviets and the only choice now, Pakistan. Since this is the default option ten times more Jewish kids are going to be at the mercy of greedy smugglers.
In 1987 I said goodbye to my family and took a flight to Zehidan, which was a city on the border of Pakistan, which was populated with Balauchi tribes. From there I continued to Koweyte, near Kandahar where Bin Laden was caught. Everyone looked exactly the same, like Bin Laden. From the relatively modern airport in Tehran I landed on a dirt runway in another world. Everywhere I go I am asked where I am from and who I am. This was not new to me, because it happened in Iran as well, but now I have nowhere to hide or escape to. Somehow I managed to get through the interrogations in the airport and I took a taxi to an address that I had received beforehand. Although it wasn’t exactly an address; I was to wait on a certain corner at 10 in the morning. If no one arrived, I was told to leave, so as not to attract attention, and return every hour on the hour exactly. No one told me there was another intersection with exactly the same street names. So instead, I stood on the wrong corner, with the same name, along with a representative from the smugglers helping me escape. We left and returned. Unfortunately, people started to notice us and started to bother us with offers of drugs, alcohol, and arms. Several hours later, a pickup truck pulled up next to us. In Zehidan, all the vehicles are pickups. There is no other type of vehicle. Several extremely muscular men got out, grabbed us, and threw us inside. We knew these were not the people that we were supposed to meet. We knew we had been arrested.
A strange escape from prison
Because of my name, they immediately realized that I was Jewish and that I did not belong in Zehidan, a remote village on the edge of Iran. They knew that this was the only escape route from Iran. Actually, they really didn’t want me at all, rather they wanted the name of the Jewish man who was my contact and had brought me to Zehidan. I didn’t tell them anything since the man was a good friend's father. Instead I told them I was here to purchase containers of cigarettes and Adidas sneakers. They knew that I was lying and threw me into a cell made of exposed concrete with my hands and feet tied and a sack over my head. I was able to make out the dimensions of the cell by using my head to feel its way along the walls. Several days later, when they removed the sack, and I saw where I was, it occurred to me that I would be better off not seeing the space in which I was imprisoned. Over the next few days, I was severely tortured. I was exposed to a very strong light, like sunlight, 24 hours a day or I was tied into all sorts of impossible positions for hours at a time. After all this I still didn’t reveal to them the identities of the men they wanted, so one night, they came for me and took me for a drive in a pickup truck with my hands and feet bound and my head covered with a sack. They threw me into the back seat. I can hear a gate opening and closing, I sense that were heading to the desert and the fear and anxiety even more. The truck stopped and again I hear a gate opening and closing and someone pulls me out. He asks me if I want to drink some water? But I refuse to answer. He then takes my head and puts it under water and holds me down. You have no idea how long you are going to be held underwater or if this is the end. He finally lifted my head out, and I breathed heavily and again he stuck my head under water. He repeats this seven or eight more times. I think I might have fainted. The next thing I remember is sand, being cold and wet and in a very small room. The door slammed and here I am in a new place being asked questions with my responses being written down. This was the moment that I broke. I didn’t reveal any names but I admitted that I crossed the border in order to escape.
Then they threw me into a different cell. I realize that I am no longer alone. There are twenty men there and they are all looking at me, a sixteen year old boy. They seem threatening; in their galbieyehs (robes) and long beards; to me they look astonishingly similar to Bin Laden.
I sit bent over with fear. I try not to draw attention to myself, which is nearly impossible since they keep hurling questions at me in an attempt to find out my name and background. I tell them my name and they immediately recognize that the name is Jewish. To my surprise, they know the term "Beney Israel" and the custom of lighting Sabbath candles and Brith Milla (ritual circumcision)! When they realized that I was an Israeli (Jewish) they treated me like a prince! After a month of walking winding roads and being tortured I slept for the first time several hours straight.
I woke up to a deafening sound; booming and screeching. Two rounds of bullets being fired. Members of their tribe came to get them out. A truck crashes into a wall and is overturned. Everyone jumps in and I get pulled in with them. They arranged a flight back to Tehran for me, but I knew my mission was not yet accomplished.
Later, when I learned about the ten missing tribes and how they supposedly live in these areas that I was in, it made me believe that the men who saved me from prison are part of these tribes of Israel.
We flew three or four hours until we were far into the desert. On the way we added five more to our group, three of whom were Jews. The driver told us he was going to speed up to 200 kph (110 mph) and we should hold hands because he wouldn’t stop or go back even if someone fell out. We drove quickly towards the mountains. During the day we slept in hidden tunnels and at night we drove. On the way we passed many smugglers. We spent many long days on camels and dark nights walking in the desert and climbing mountains, trying to avoid the police and bandits along the way, since the pickup truck had large amounts of cash, weapons, and opium hidden that they were smuggling from village to village and from hand to hand. The pickup goes over hills and crosses rivers. The nights are dark and cold. We run into people with guns who make everyone get out and won't less us pass until they receive approval. There were countless days of terror thinking that we wouldn’t survive, until finally we arrive in the city of Kowaite.
We quickly go to the UN office, which is quite familiar with Jews from Iran showing up on their doorstep. They gave each of us a refugee card and hid us in a safe house in the city. Then we took another flight, this time to Karachi, to the Imperial Hotel. We got into a taxi, but little did we know that we were headed to another crisis. The cab driver was already familiar with this type of "merchandise" and he took us directly to the police station.
Oy! It cost us so much money to get out of there.
Some of the Jews in the group, which had increased in numbers, decided to make aliyah to Israel and some chose to go to America. I wanted to be with my brother. I had to spend an entire year in Vienna waiting for a visa to the US but in the spring of 1989 I finally arrived in New York.
In the meantime, I found out that the Iranian government had begun looking for me. One night my parents received a knock on the door and my father was asked where the boy was. My father told them that he hadn’t seen me in over a year that I had been selling drugs and ran away, but they arrested him on the spot. After a lengthy interrogation, he was released. However, a week later he was required to return to the police station. During that week, he disappeared. He left shopping malls and land behind. He paid a lot of money to make aliyah to Israel.
In 2000 Shaltiel made aliyah from LA and six years ago he moved to Modiin. After an extended stay in New York, I became more aware of Israel and since then I travel back and forth between the two. I love Benjamin Netanyahu and his leadership style. I find him to be charismatic and I am drawn to his personality and to the books he has written; I knew he would return to the prime minister's office even though he lost in the elections back then. I believe that just like Joseph (from the Bible) knew how to help the nations recover from an economic crisis, so too does Netanyahu. He has saved the nation from economic ruin and has led her to the forefront of the international economic scene. I learned about my nation's history and I started to learn Jewish philosophy and Kabbalah. I am about to open a spiritual awareness school in Los Angeles. In the last few years I have started to collect contributions in Israel and abroad for the "Ilai Fund" which we created to assist special needs' children. The fund is named for our son Ilai, who was born healthy, smart and beautiful after years of prayer.
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