The day I heckled Ahmadinejad

When Mahmoud Ahmadinejad made his first visit to the US as president of Iran, I attended a ceremony at the Manhattan Hilton where he was speaking. Having gone there out of sheer curiosity, I sat listening, with some 450 others. After reciting a few verses from the Qur'an, Ahmadinejad spoke of the greatness of the Iranian nation and its equally great achievements under the Islamic republic.

Then Ali Larijani, Iran's former head of the nuclear programme, stepped on the podium asking the "wonderful Iranians abroad" to support the nuclear energy programme just as they had supported Iran's struggle for oil nationalisation half a century ago.

At this point, I could no longer contain myself. My father was prime minister Mohammed Mosaddeq's personal attorney, and I got up and shouted: "But there is not a street or an alley in all of Iran in the name of the man who nationalised the oil. You are lying."

I ran towards the table where the president of Iran and his entourage were sitting. Again, without any prior plans, I cried out to him: "You have ruined my country."

He didn't bat an eye and calmly and cleverly answered: "Let's go back and build our country together." I had just enough composure to continue with a riposte: "Your regime jails whoever comes and tries to help their country."

We engaged in a one-to-one conversation for nearly 25 minutes. I pointed out the human rights abuses, the gap between the rich and the poor, the appointment of two shady characters in his cabinet and so on, before two American security guards politely took me away.

After the encounter, I told people that this man should not be underestimated. I thought he was street smart, a wise guy who knew how to talk and relate to his audience. I was not wrong.

Later on, I learned that the ultra-conservative daily, Kayhan, had mentioned that "a hijabless woman, in improper clothing, had insulted the president of Iran".

All of which was of course a lie. The hijab was mandatory, my outfit was black (in fact I had bought it at the Friday bazaar in Tehran) and I only told the truth.

But even Ahmadinejad did not know that after four years of popular rhetoric, shouting foul about imperialist and Zionist threats, a vicious attack on Iran's civil society and destructive economic plans, Iranians would vote him out of office. He may have been too delusional to realise that people would unmask him and see through the demagoguery. But he was clever enough to prepare himself for discomfiture before the elections.

With an electoral fraud machine, and the supreme leader's unconditional support, he unleashed his basiji friends with clubs, bayonets and even bullets to attack. Yet he was not prepared for the outcry and the anger that followed in the form of massive demonstrations.

The Islamic republic, 30 years after its inception, has lost its legitimacy by responding to this peaceful outpouring of popular anti-regime sentiment with lethal violence and numerous arrests. Today, Ahmadinejad can no longer blame the western powers for the violence perpetrated against Iranians. Not after Mohsen Rouholamini, the son of an adviser to his rival, Mohsen Rezai, died in the notorious Evin prison. Today, neither Israel nor the Great Satan but the homegrown basijis are torturing and murdering this nation's sons and daughters.

The movement continues and all indications are that people are more determined than ever. There is too much at stake. Freedom has been trampled upon. Every martyr's death is marked by more vigils and protests. The camaraderie and solidarity among Iranians are unprecedented, both in Iran and abroad. Too many innocent lives have been lost; dozens of civil rights activists, lawyers and journalists are in jail. Countless mothers and fathers are faced with the broken bodies of their youngsters.

It is now a matter of life and death for Iranian society. The strangulation of Iran which began some 30 years ago is not over but the regime has suffered major blows. Worst of all, Ali Khamenei, the divinely ordained leader, has turned his back on the people he is held to protect in the name of God. The highest clerics of the land are now questioning the lodestone of the regime, the notion of Velayat Faghih, the guardianship of the jurist, introduced by Ayatollah Khomeini. Its days are clearly numbered.

Fariba Amini, a human rights activist and a journalist.