Memoirs of Hojjatoleslam Valmoslemin Seyed Mohammad Javad Pishvaee

Remembering the Bloody Hajj in 1366 (1987)

A Selection by Faezeh Sasanikhah
Translated by M. B. Khoshnevisan

2022-06-28

The Hajj rituals in 1987 known as the Bloody Hajj of Holy Mecca, was the glorious ceremony for disavowal of the infidels, which was announced after the speech of the representative of the Imam and the annual slogan that the caravans move to the Masjid al-Haram (the Great Mosque of Mecca). Like every year, they started moving near the evening and wherever they reached in the evening, they performed the Maghrib (evening) prayers in congregation in the same mosque on the way. When we moved, some friends [Hojjatoleslam Seyed Mohammad Javad Pishvaee] were with me. Suddenly, on the way, I saw that Hojjatoleslam Ghias Va’ez, as well as the late Haj Agha Aghaei, the custodian of the Seyyed al-Shohada Mosque, and other friends were carrying the wounded under the bridge. The crowd turned from the front to the back and the back of the crowd also moved forward due to pressure. We were also under pressure in the middle of the crowd in hot weather. Hearing the sound of bullets and tear gas, I saw that some people were dying under heavy pressure and taking their last breaths, and men and women were all shouting Ya Hussein or Ya Fatemeh or Ya Ali and so on. For a moment, I realized I was leaving behind the last moments of my life. By saying Shahdatayn [to testify or stand witness to the oneness of God and the prophethood of Muhammad (SAWA)] and asking for forgiveness and calling my martyred son dear Mostafa, dear Mostafa, I didn’t understand anything else. Once I opened my eyes and saw that I had fallen to the ground next to the dead and wounded and it was night and a cool breeze was almost blowing. I was happy to be alive. I got up and saw that there was no turban on my head. I'm barefoot. I only have an Arabic shirt with a wallet. I saw the Saudi guards and police officers, even some plainclothes men, holding long sticks and beating people and Iranians. I moved fast until I entered the house where the Palestinian convoy was staying because they were sheltering the Iranians and it was near the Ma’abedeh Square. One of the officers hit me hard on the head with his cane, and for a moment I fainted and fell to the ground. I noticed that the Iranians hugged me and took me inside the Palestinian house. I saw that the house was full of Iranian men and women. One of them poured a water bottle on my head and I felt a little better. By opening my eyes, I saw that my sister and niece were among the ladies. As soon as they saw me, my sister shouted and fainted. It was a painful scene, like the day of Ashura and Sham-i Ghariban (the night of strangers). After a while, the Be’theh (the department of the representation of the Supreme Leader in Hajj Affairs) and Red Crescent people, with the help of the Iranians, whom may God Almighty be their helper wherever they are, took the wounded to the Ma’abedeh Square to be taken to the clinic by ambulance, and some guided the Iranian pilgrims to the caravans. We were waiting for the ambulance. I noticed for a moment that Haj Agha Ebadi, the head of the Educative Affairs of Tehran's Education Department, was helping the injured with some of the department’s staff. As soon as they saw me, they started crying. I told him to take me to the clinic instead of crying. The ambulances were riding in turn. He said to one of the ambulance drivers, "Sir, first, come and ride Haj Agha Pishvaee. He is our master and the representative of the Imam." The ambulance driver said that today all Iranians represent the Imam and we have to ride in turn. Anyway, I got in and was taken to the Iranian Red Crescent clinic. They stitched my head that I wish they did not, it hurt so much because there was no anesthesia devices and the number of injured was high; we went to the caravan of Haj Hassan Abedi that I was the clergy of that caravan. The pilgrims were all greeted with tears. However, after the ceremony, when I came to Tehran, the friends and acquaintances came to see me, including the parents of the respected martyr Massoud Jalili, one of the educational instructors in Tehran's 14th district, who attended my classes. The martyr's mother said, "Haj Agha, I found out that night that you were injured because I dreamed of Massoud." He said, “Mother, there was a tumult in Mecca today. A number of Iranians were martyred and a number of others injured including Haj Agha Pishvaee. He was on the verge of dying but we did not allow this to happen with the help of the educational instructors. We tried to get him out of the line”. That night, it was proved to me that the martyrs always witness our deeds. I thanked God Almighty that the result of those classes and meetings that I attended without any expectations would help me one day in those moments of homelessness and loneliness, and God Almighty would compensate in this way.[1]

 
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