The Story of the First Sacred Defense Book Award

An Interview with Mohammad-Qasem Foroughi Jahromi

Interview and compilation by Maryam Asadi Jafari
Translated by Kianoush Borzouei

2026-6-17

The Oral History website conducted a two-hour interview in October-November 2025 with Mohammad-Qasem Foroughi Jahromi regarding the process of establishing the “First Selection of the Best Sacred Defense Book” award. Shortly after he began his work at the Foundation for the Preservation of Sacred Defense Works and Values, he had proposed the idea of holding this award to Engineer Mehdi Chamran, the then-president of the Foundation.

The intention was to publish this interview simultaneously with the twenty-third edition of the Sacred Defense Book of the Year Award in February–March 2026. However, the sudden outbreak of war cast its shadow over Iran, and the announcement of the best books from the 23rd edition was postponed until April–May 2026. This interview is now being published on the eve of the twenty-fourth edition.

The organization of the “first edition” of any festival is always the most challenging and, at the same time, the most significant stage, because the continuation of the event develops upon the foundations established during that initial phase. In the first edition of the selection of the best Sacred Defense books, 338 published works from 1980-1990, centered on the Sacred Defense, were reviewed. These included 115 poetry books, 67 works of fiction, 51 memoirs, 43 artistic works, 25 research books, 22 ideological and religious works, and 51 anthologies.

The following conversation examines the formation of the “First Sacred Defense Book Award” from its inception to its conclusion, while also paying tribute to the prominent figures in the fields of Sacred Defense literature and publishing.

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Mr. Foroughi, the Foundation for the Preservation of Sacred Defense Works and Values was established in 1990, and you were appointed as the first director of literature and publications at the Foundation. Is that correct?

I joined the Foundation in 1991 and was appointed as the first Director of Literature and Publications of the Foundation for the Preservation of Sacred Defense Works and Values. At that time, the word “publishing” was not included in the Foundation’s official title.

Before me, Mr. Mehdi Rasouli had been temporarily supervising the literature and publications department for around five or six months. He occasionally visited the organization, but there was no structured or systematic program in place.

Mr. Mohammad-Baqer Nikkhah, whom I had worked with in wartime front-line propaganda and public relations, contacted me in 1991 and suggested that I join the Foundation. Before that, I was responsible for the literary productions related to the front and the war, and I was also managing the publications department of the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps Ground Forces.

At that time, Mr. Nik-khah had become the deputy to Mehdi Chamran at the Foundation. I went there, discussed the matter, and eventually began working.

Was the Sacred Defense Book Award established from the very beginning?

It took some time for me to fully understand the situation and gain an overview of the work. I tried to create an organizational structure that would have solid foundations and would not be vulnerable to future fluctuations, events, or administrative changes.

We built the foundation of that structure around two main divisions: “Literature” and “Publications,” and it gradually gained strength through the activities of literary councils.

After several months, numerous meetings, and extensive consultation and collaboration with colleagues, I proposed three programs to Mr. Chamran, the then-head of the Foundation. I wrote a letter stating that we were now prepared to launch three initiatives within the Foundation:

1. Selection of the Best Sacred Defense Book

2. Sacred Defense Poetry Congress

3. Seminar on Sacred Defense Literature

Mr. Chamran approved the first two but made the third initiative conditional upon cooperation with the Ministry of Culture and Islamic Guidance.

At that time, Dr. Saghaffi (the brother-in-law of Imam Khomeini) was responsible for the Ministry of Culture’s Front and War Support Headquarters. I approached him. Dr. Ayouzi was also in charge of the research and Sacred Defense division at the Ministry of Culture, and we held discussions with him as well and reached certain agreements.

However, the Ministry stated that it was not ready to cooperate at that stage, and unfortunately, the third program remained unrealized.

Whenever a project receives approval within an organization, its implementation must be carried out through a council consisting of experienced specialists. Such a council provides perspectives, evaluates different approaches, and allows the project to take shape.

The first step we took was to invite Mr. Behrouz Esbati, Mr. Morteza Sarhangi, Mr. Hedayatollah Behboudi, and Mr. Alireza Kamari, and we told them: “We want to select the best Sacred Defense books.”

At that point, we were not thinking about policy-making or theoretical frameworks. We simply established a council to organize and execute the work.

The colleagues welcomed the idea enthusiastically. Meetings were held, different viewpoints were exchanged, and they truly devoted their full effort to bringing the project into operation.

Which years are you referring to?

The years 1991-1992. During the process, Mr. Alireza Kamari underwent surgery, and the meetings were suspended. I personally placed great value on Mr. Kamari’s opinions. I went to his house and told him: “You cannot attend the meetings at the moment. Allow us to move our sessions to your home.” He welcomed the idea warmly. After that, we entered the implementation phase. I personally suggested to Mr. Chamran that Mr. Behrouz Esbati should become the secretary of the Best Sacred Defense Book Selection program. He accepted and issued his appointment decree. We established the secretariat, and Mr. Mohammad-Baqer Shamsipour and Mr. Hassan Asadi assumed responsibility for it. From an administrative perspective, the project had finally become established, and we began collecting books.

Given the limited media landscape at the time, how did you publicize the call for submissions?

There was no centralized place where books had already been collected. There was not even a specialized war library. We announced that anyone who possessed any relevant books should send them to the secretariat. We published calls for submissions on the front pages and inside newspapers such as Kayhan, Ettelaat, Jomhouri-e Eslami, and others, so that newspaper readers would become aware of the announcement. Some people had books in their homes and brought them to us. If we had wanted, we could have collected the books through other channels as well. For example, we could have announced through Friday prayers that anyone who had war-related books at home should bring them forward. During the war years, we used to announce that three vehicles would be stationed at specific Friday prayer locations, asking people to bring any books they had for the front lines. We would collect those books and send them to the battlefields. The vehicles would almost always become full. However, we never reached the point where we could announce this through Friday prayer gatherings across different cities—which would have been much more effective. Newspapers had a broad audience, and most of our target audience read newspapers. Almost everyone who had a certain level of social awareness followed the press. Of course, we also contacted the archives of the Revolutionary Guard, the Army, and the Martyrs Foundation and obtained copies of their publications. At that time, there were not as many publishers as there are today. Most of the works came from the Revolutionary Guard. The Army did not have many books. The Art Center and the Institute for the Intellectual Development of Children and Young Adults, however, genuinely had excellent publications. In any case, with tremendous effort, we collected, organized, and categorized 338 titles. For example, some books such as Jihad in Islam or Verses of War in the Quran also reached us. However, they were not suitable for this field. Many works were outside the scope of the award. Eventually, at the central council, we discussed the matter and determined the judging committees. Then we decided to divide the books published between 1980 and 1992 into different phases, because works from before and after the war could not be compared and evaluated under the same criteria. Therefore, we decided to consider ten years from 1980 to 1990 as the first phase and the following four-year period as the second phase.

So you intended to evaluate the post-war period later?

Yes.

Was the central council still composed of you and Mr. Esbati, Mr. Kamari, Mr. Sarhangi, and Mr. Behboudi?

Yes. Although I personally believed that colleagues should participate actively and that I should not impose my own views. However, because I am strict about standards, some people have mistakenly interpreted this differently.

According to the final statement, you eventually reached 14 judging categories. Could you explain the process of forming these groups?

We approved the judging groups in the central council and eventually arrived at 14 categories. Poetry, History of the War: including political and military issues, the imposed war, Islamic teachings, and ideological subjects, Written memoirs, Visual arts: photography, design, and graphic works, Translation, Anthologies, Fiction: including reports, wills, biographies, interviews, manuscripts, and letters

Were the judging categories selected based on the submitted works, or had they been predetermined beforehand?

One opinion held by Mr. Sarhangi, Mr. Behboudi, and Mr. Kamari was that they did not recognize certain genres as independent categories. For instance, in fiction, they considered everything simply “fiction.” They did not even accept the concept of fictional biography. They had a debate regarding the book The Epic of Hoveyzeh. They argued that the book was not fiction, not memoir, and not documentary; therefore, they set it aside. I personally went to the judging committee twice and said: “Tell me what category this book belongs to if you have excluded it. Tell me where it should be judged. This is a valuable work. It is a polished and highly influential text.” Perhaps it was among the very few books published during the Sacred Defense period that combined documentary elements, storytelling, and historical narration. Eventually, they still did not specify its genre and, somewhat reluctantly, said that perhaps it should receive an award. I said: “This book is either fiction or fictional biography. It represents a new genre: a story constructed upon documentary foundations.” However, my colleagues did not accept this argument. They believed that because the work relied on factual references, it could not be considered fiction, because it did not contain imagination. At that time, many people viewed literature in a very conventional way and did not acknowledge innovation and creativity.

What exactly was the “anthology” category? Because such a genre no longer exists today.

An anthology was not a distinct genre in itself. It was a mixture of different forms: memoir, short story, photography, biography, and handwritten documents. When documentary materials and war-related stories were collected together in a single volume, we referred to it as an anthology. Similar books had also been published by the Art Center under the title “The Children of the Mosque.”

Why were such books published at that time?

Because we wanted the audience to become familiar with different literary forms. It was similar to a magazine: when you opened it, you found everything inside. That diversity was attractive to the mind—there were photographs, poetry, stories, and memoirs. Only people with refined taste and creativity could produce a good anthology.

At the Quarter-Century Sacred Defense Book Festival, a large archive of books published between 1980 and 2006 was assembled. I remember that the judging committees had developed more precise subcategories, such as “self-written memoirs” and “other-written memoirs.” Did you also reach such classifications through trial and error in later editions?

Yes. In later editions, we arrived at the distinction between first-person memoirs and third-person memoirs. In the second or third edition, we awarded the book Passenger, Sky, Chain—which was a third-person memoir. Mr. Farzin Shirzadi had conducted the interviews and written the text. He was serving his military duty with us at the time, and because he had a writing talent, we encouraged him to write a book. We located the pilot Houshang Shervin, interviewed him, and produced a well-crafted book under the supervision of Mr. Hassan Bani-Ameri.

So, in the first edition, did you fail to achieve your original goal of discovering and identifying new genres within war literature?

We eventually arrived at eight distinct categories. Because memoirs and stories are not all the same. A short story and a novel are different, and each possesses its own identity. Perhaps some judges were not looking for this kind of identity, but personally, I strongly believe in giving genres their own identity.

What do you mean by “giving genres their own identity”?

It means recognizing that we can create works in every genre and every branch. It is not important to say that a story must necessarily follow a specific framework. I may want to write in a postmodern style; I may want to invent something new. Why should we prevent creativity? I believe that nothing is completely closed or restricted. There is no wall standing before us, and there are as many tastes as there are people. I do not want to write a story exactly like yours. I want to write in a way that reflects who I am. I want my own signature to be visible in the work. Imitation is widespread, but imitation alone is not a significant achievement.

Anyone who can write something engaging and readable—even without having received professional training—if they can occupy the reader’s mind with a subject and create concern and motivation within the audience, deserves the opportunity to write.

These genres and definitions are not divine commandments. If they are not absolute, then where does innovation come from? Innovation emerges precisely through experimentation and trial and error. That is why I believe we still have not reached a complete classification of the most effective, engaging, and readable literary forms in the field of Sacred Defense. We must understand that those who possess talent, creativity, and motivation may not always use today’s established frameworks. Why do some people believe that forms must impose limitations? Who made such a ruling? These boundaries originate from closed-mindedness. An artist breaks conventions and creates their own fictional universe—while still adhering to strong literary principles and standards.

My mind should not become restricted or stagnant. If we become trapped in such limitations, we cannot move forward. The future belongs to those who refuse to stop and who do not confine themselves to a single mold. We must allow new genres to emerge, and those who understand writing should be allowed to experiment, make mistakes, and learn. I believe that in Sacred Defense literature, we must allow different talents, tastes, beliefs, and intellectual perspectives to be expressed. If these voices are not presented, progress will not occur, and we will remain confined to a limited number of forms and genres despite having experienced eight years of war. Throughout my life, I never looked over someone else’s shoulder to figure out how to do something. Mr. Mohammad-Javad Mousavi, one of the officials of front-line propaganda and wartime communications, shared this approach. During the war, whenever we attended meetings together, he had a particular perspective: “Whatever others are not doing, we will do.”

 Ultimately, these genres became more complete, and their branches more diverse, in later editions because we considered the forms people could write in to possess authenticity, identity, and legitimacy.

Why did the final report of the first Sacred Defense Book Award state that works in the field of children’s and young adult literature would not be evaluated? Was there a specific reason?

First, we wanted to examine children’s and young adult literature separately. The number of works in this field was extremely high, and their quality was also remarkably strong. Children’s and young adult books had the capacity to be judged and presented through an independent festival.

What eventually happened to those books?

We dedicated one edition of the Book of the Year selection specifically to children’s and young adult works. I believe it was in 1994, although I do not remember the dates precisely. During that edition, famous and respected writers such as Nasser Irani and several storybooks from the Institute for the Intellectual Development of Children and Young Adults were selected. I do not remember the exact titles of the books.

In the documents and archives of the Foundation, I could not find a complete and precise record of the names of all judges. How much do you remember?

There were Alireza Kamari, Hassan Bani-Ameri, Ahmad Dehqan, Azmaeian, Morteza Sarhangi, Hedayatollah Behboudi, Hossein Fattahi, Davoud Ghafarzadegan, Ali Shojaei-Sain, and others. The poetry committee included Mr. Parviz Beigi Habibabadi, Hossein Esrafili, Hossein Ahi, and Saed Bagheri. If you need the remaining names, I can compile them later and provide them.

Let us move on to the evaluation of the works. As you mentioned in the final report of the festival, during the first stage of judging, the books were initially reviewed as a whole, and many works were eliminated because they failed to meet the minimum required qualitative standards. The second stage involved selecting books based on their compliance with the established criteria and recording the strengths and weaknesses of each work in the judging forms. In other words, you had designed specific evaluation forms for each stage. The third stage consisted of reviewing and identifying the outstanding works, assigning scores, and ultimately selecting the first-, second-, and third-ranked works in each category. We would like to know whether you have any particular memories from the judging process, including possible disagreements or challenges with the judges.

Of course, I did not have any conflicts or disagreements with anyone. The responsibility of the secretary was to maintain communication with the judges, manage the evaluation sessions, and establish the judging criteria. I mainly performed a supervisory role, and even that was only to the extent required by the Foundation’s organizational structure. I never interfered in Mr. Esbati’s work, because when you appoint someone as the person responsible for a task, and you know that they can carry it out professionally and fairly, there is no need for interference. However, sometimes when Mr. Esbati presented reports on the progress of the judging process, discussions would arise. In such cases, I would communicate the Foundation’s policies and perspectives to the colleagues. For example, in the field of poetry, we received a very large number of excellent works from prominent poets, and our largest number of selections also came from the poetry category. I think we selected ten poetry books, and all of them belonged to respected and established figures. Our policy was to ensure that no one’s rights were overlooked.

And, of course, the names of some judges also appeared among the selected works!

Well, for example, if Qeysar Aminpour was a judge, we could not simply exclude his work or say: “Do not participate in judging so that we can evaluate your book.” The poets were highly accomplished, and others believed that the books of such individuals certainly had to be reviewed. I can testify that none of them had any desire to select themselves. These points are meaningful and valuable. When we speak about the hidden dimensions of sacrifice during the Sacred Defense, this is precisely what we mean. It was not only the combatants who made sacrifices. If poets had not possessed this spirit, they could not have written poetry capable of connecting with the very soul, body, and existence of a fighter. If the creator of a work does not understand the characteristics of their audience, their work becomes ineffective. One must place oneself in the position of the audience, be influenced, and then influence others. These poets went to the front lines and were deeply affected by the atmosphere of war. They organized poetry gatherings, and these gatherings were among the most significant commemorative programs held during that period. A poet who constantly recited Sacred Defense poetry, inspired combatants, and went to the battlefield because of their audience was certainly carrying within themselves traces of struggle, war, and defense. For example, the poetry of the late Hamid Sabzevari reflects his personality. Mr. Mahmoud Shahrokhi and Mr. Mehrdad Ousta were symbols of cultivated and intellectual individuals. However, among all these distinguished figures, Mehrdad Ousta stood at the highest level in terms of academic standing and literary excellence. He was the most humble person among the artists and writers of Sacred Defense literature, despite his knowledge, refinement, and personality surpassing many others. He had a profound influence on poets. The Poetry Council during the Sacred Defense period was led by him, and he was the one who clarified and developed many of the discussions. When I attended meetings with my mother, Simin-Dokht Vahidi, I would see everyone listening attentively to Mr. Ousta, eager to benefit from his insights and perspectives. Unfortunately, these days we rarely see such figures being remembered. Mehrdad Ousta was the teacher and mentor of many poets, including Qeysar Aminpour, Seyyed Hassan Hosseini, Vahid Amiri, Saed Bagheri, Hossein Esrafili, and others. After poetry, we also had many works in the field of memoir.

What was the situation of memoir writing during those early years?

At that time, memoir writing had not yet become a very active field. When we approached commanders to record their memories, they would say, “We have nothing to say, and if we talk about these things, it would become a form of self-praise.” Most people were unwilling to speak. The statistics of the first Sacred Defense Book Award also show that only 51 memoir titles had been published from the beginning of the war until 1992. During the war, we ourselves had established a program called “Recording Memories” within the front and war propaganda department. Many groups would go among the combatants to record their recollections. However, most commanders did not speak. There were many subjects that we were unable to work on during the war itself because informed individuals—such as Mr. Mohsen Rezaei or Mr. Rahim Safavi—did not have the time to sit down and narrate their memories. I asked Mr. Ali Shamkhani to write an introduction for the book The Epic of Hoveyzeh, and I waited for six months. The then-President, Mr. Ali Khamenei, was also supposed to write an introduction for a book, and it took around three or four months. Every day, we had to call them just to obtain a single book introduction. Beyond that, producing the books themselves had its own challenges. Whenever we wanted to publish a memoir, we reflected on it carefully and examined every aspect. It was not like today, where almost anything can be published under the pretext of being a cultural document or similar justifications. You only need to look at the book The Epic of Hoveyzeh and see how much effort we invested in publishing it, ensuring that the work was free of flaws and that all matters were accurate and properly verified.

Do you have any particular memory of the award ceremony or presenting prizes to the selected works?

Mr. Mohyeddin Haeri Shirazi, the Friday Prayer Leader of Shiraz who passed away a few years ago, was an extraordinary religious scholar and a remarkable figure in the history of Shi’a thought. He worked extensively on the conceptualization and explanation of jihad. The seven-volume collection “Islam at the Front” was based on the lectures and speeches of Mr. Haeri Shirazi. Mr. Gholam-Ali Rajaei, who was responsible for wartime propaganda, would invite him to the front lines. For instance, he would deliver seven sessions on a particular set of topics. I would transcribe, edit, organize, and compile these discussions, and they would eventually be published as books. This seven-volume collection, which explored the spiritual journey and moral development of a combatant engaged in the path of jihad, was evaluated and selected for the Sacred Defense Book Award. We invited Mr. Haeri to receive the award, but he said he did not have the time and did not attend. After the ceremony of selecting the best Sacred Defense books, I called Mr. Gholam-Ali Rajaei. At that time, he was in Ahvaz. I told him: “Come with me. Let us go to Shiraz together and deliver Mr. Haeri’s certificate of appreciation and gift.” We did not tell Mr. Haeri that we were bringing him an award. We simply said that we were coming to Shiraz to visit him. We were wondering how to present the award without making him uncomfortable, because he was a deeply spiritual and humble person. Eventually, we went there and presented the prize. He strongly criticized us, saying that such a gesture was unnecessary and that he had merely performed his duty.

Apart from selecting the best Sacred Defense books in various categories, there was also a supplementary section titled “The First Documented and Dated Work in Each Field.” What did you mean by that?

We identified the first published book in each field based on its publication date. Of course, some books did not have publication dates or cataloging information. At that time, there was no strict order or discipline in printing and publishing. Anyone could publish almost anything they wanted. Perhaps the first work published in the field of Sacred Defense literature was a publication by the Writers’ Association of Iran.

 Another important point, especially from a historical perspective, is the novel “The Burnt Land” by Ahmad Mahmoud. According to the judges, this work ranked first, and the gap between it and the following books was significant. However, due to considerations imposed by certain policymakers, his name was removed. Since I was only the executive organizer of the program, there was nothing I could do to prevent this change.

So that is why this book does not appear among the selected works?

Yes. In any case, sometimes higher-level individuals intervene and the rights of certain people are overlooked.

Before coming to this interview, I reviewed the documents available at the Foundation regarding the first Sacred Defense Book Award. A proposal had been prepared for the festival. This was not a text written after the war. It was moderate, balanced, and free from excessive slogans. One particularly interesting section was the special examination of women’s works and their role during the war. Why did you emphasize the role of women in the first stage?

The Foundation had a magazine titled “The Epic of Resistance,” which was published in book form. I dedicated two issues of it specifically to women, because at that time women were not sufficiently visible. Today, women’s war memoirs have become widespread in the publishing market. However, during that period, the prominent roles of nurses and mothers during the war had been overlooked. We therefore decided that books whose subject matter and authors were both women should receive special evaluation, whether in fiction or memoir. We wanted women to enter the field and feel that they were being recognized. Such initiatives later became the foundation for the broader participation of women in war literature. Later, some people objected, saying: “Why should women’s books be evaluated separately from men’s?” Well-known female writers and poets requested that women’s works not be separated. They said: “We feel as though we are being treated as secondary participants. Allow our works to be evaluated alongside men’s works.” Overall, there were two perspectives, and each could simultaneously be considered both a strength and a weakness. The strength was that we believed women were influential and that we could provide them with a distinct identity and recognition. The weakness was that some argued: “When you evaluate our works separately from men’s, it implies that our works cannot compete with theirs.” However, we never held such a view. Our only intention was to honor women writers of the war period and ensure that their contributions received particular recognition.

Mr. Foroughi, who were the judges responsible for cover design and book layout?

I do not remember precisely. Overall, the judges of the first edition were the intellectual elites and leading figures in each field. They represented the essence and highest level of expertise in their respective areas. Many of those who were students at the time have now become professors and masters themselves.

How long did the evaluation of all the works take?

Because of the level of precision required and the scale of the work, the process usually took between nine months and one year. Unlike today, we did not have all the necessary tools and resources available, and collecting books was extremely difficult. Today, someone can organize an exhibition, and people can simply purchase books there. Or they can find yearly publications through the House of Books. We also now have war libraries that greatly assist in collecting and preserving works.

The closing ceremony was held on May 24, 1994. What did you consider as the prize?

For each outstanding work, we prepared ten Bahar-e Azadi gold coins and a certificate of appreciation. This demonstrated that we valued the writers and their contributions. The key factor behind the success of the initiative was Mr. Mehdi Chamran’s presence at the Foundation for the Preservation of Sacred Defense Works and Values and his commitment to carrying the project forward. I can say with confidence that none of the Foundation’s officials throughout these years have been as dedicated to this work as he was. He devoted all his capacity and energy to the cause. He would even participate in some judging sessions himself, and he was also one of the judges in the field of visual arts. He, Dr. Hossein Shahrestani, and Dr. Mehdi Hojjat were the judges of the arts category. All of the judges were among the leading experts in their fields. Unless a person is genuinely committed and personally involved in a task, they cannot credibly claim that they truly believe in it.

In the first edition, 32 outstanding works were selected across all judging categories. However, during the closing ceremony, 79 individuals were honored. Could you explain this?

Besides recognizing the best writers, we also honored contributors to publishing, cultural figures, and leading publishers. There were even individuals whose books were not selected, but who had carried out valuable work in the field of war literature. For example, some had produced influential works or had published a large number of books. We recognized these individuals as well. We also honored active organizations such as the Art Center, the Ministry of Culture and Islamic Guidance, and the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. Even in the first edition, we paid tribute to the judges. Later, after several years of interruption, when I returned as secretary, I selected and honored the outstanding judge among all the evaluators.

Mr. Foroughi, as the final question, until what year did you serve as Director of Literature at the Foundation for the Preservation of Sacred Defense Works? And after leaving the Foundation, what role did you have in this program?

I remained in this position until 1999, and I believe I was the Director of Literature at the Foundation until around the seventh or eighth edition of the Book of the Year Award. During Mr. Hamid Hessam’s tenure, I also served as the executive secretary of the Book of the Year Award for two editions. Later, from the seventeenth through the twentieth and twenty-first editions, I was the scientific secretary of the program. Of course, because of your limited time, if there is an opportunity, I would like to analyze and evaluate the more recent editions in order to identify the strengths and weaknesses of this program, which the Foundation is responsible for, and determine what direction it should take in the future. Because, under the current circumstances, the work is perceived as highly unstructured and lacking in significance. It appears that the program continues merely out of necessity rather than through a clear vision. Whereas this initiative itself possesses a level of intellectual, cultural, and executive capacity comparable to the Foundation as a whole. Unfortunately, these dimensions have not been adequately developed within the Foundation for the Preservation of Sacred Defense Works. The program has been reduced merely to an administrative report and an act of implementation, while its broader and guiding impact on production, publishing, cultural development, and both national and global cultural communication has been neglected. Hopefully, in the future, this work will benefit from the necessary wisdom, constructive vision, and quality, and will move beyond routine repetition. It should not become trapped in merely continuing yesterday’s stagnation.

Thank you for your thoughtful attention and for providing this opportunity. May God be your support.