Excerpt from the Book of Oral History of the Army and the Islamic Revolution

Two Narratives on the Events of September 8, 1978

Selected by Faezeh Sasanikhah
Translated by: Kianoush Borzouei

2024-9-10

Colonel Norouzi, in affirming Mr. Marjani's statements, recounts an intriguing anecdote from the tragic day of September 8. He believes that it was specialized forces who executed this brutal operation, and that the regular army forces were not involved in that day’s atrocities.

"On September 8, most of the military personnel feigned illness and did not participate in enforcing martial law. I know of a battalion commander who had come from Maragheh to Tehran, only to head to Shahr-e Rey to his sister's house. When his sister asked him why he had come to Tehran, he replied, 'I am a battalion commander enforcing martial law.' His sister said, 'You’ve come to kill people, and now you’ve come to my home for lunch?' At the doorstep, an extraordinary debate broke out between the siblings, and even now, whenever I recall it, I cannot help but cry. He swore that he had come to place his battalion at the service of the people and that he would not allow his men to fire upon them. He promised his sister as much. What I want to say is that, if you were to gather statistics from the military personnel, most of those present on the streets were serving the people. On September 8, helicopters were firing from above. Maybe a few, maybe a hundred, maybe even two hundred people were killed. But I believe that the core of the army, which later shed blood after the revolution, and though I haven’t investigated this thoroughly, I can say that they were not mercenaries. It’s possible that certain individuals within the army, those with exceptionally cruel hearts, were the ones who shot at the people on Black Friday.”

One eyewitness of the Arba'een ceremony held for the martyrs of September 8 at Behesht Zahra cemetery recounts:

"The section of Behesht Zahra dedicated to the martyrs of September 8 was overflowing with people. Freshly laid headstones marked the graves, and most of them were simple, bearing nothing more than the name of the martyr. This was due to restrictions imposed by the military governor. Among them, one particular grave attracted more attention than the others. We approached it. Men and women, city dwellers and villagers alike, had gathered around it. An elderly villager sat by the grave, reciting a prayer with tears and sorrow, and spoke of the greatness of the one buried there. The gravestone was nothing but a nameless, unmarked stone. Yet someone, a person of insight, had written with a piece of charcoal: 'A Martyr for the Righteous Cause!' That phrase profoundly moved me. It was the grave of a selfless soldier who, on September 8, had refused, like Hur, to open fire on the women and children in front of him. The officer who had given the order to shoot had punished him for his defiance. This courageous soldier was from Tabriz. I stood at his pure grave for some time, listening to the people's conversations about him. Each person praised him in their own way. Suddenly, it was announced that his mother was about to speak. A barrel was placed near the grave, and her relatives helped her stand on it. The elderly mother of the martyr began speaking with a thick Azeri accent. Her heartfelt words, filled with pride over her son's martyrdom and the fact that he had not fired on the people, sparing her from disgrace, deeply moved the crowd."