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over.
    That night Anna did things to him she hadn’t done in a long time. Nouri decided maybe a little jealousy was good for the soul.
     

Seven
     
    How is your research on the thesis coming along?” Anna asked one night in January.
    Nouri didn’t want to talk about it. It was not going well. The desalination proposal had turned out to be more difficult than he’d anticipated. For one, it was not realistic to build a plant in the rocky soil of a mountain village. Even if it could be built, and the water treated, there was no existing infrastructure through which to pipe the water from the plant into homes or wells or cisterns. He might have to abandon the topic, but he wasn’t ready to admit it yet.
    A few days later an article in an Iranian newspaper attacked Ayatollah Khomeini, which sparked a mass demonstration in Qom, perhaps the holiest city in the world for Shi’ite Muslims. Several demonstrators were killed. A little over a month later, more anti-shah protests, this time in Tabriz, Iran’s fourth largest city, turned violent. It took two days before order was restored.
    Nouri went to a hastily called meeting of the student organization. Just getting to the meeting was proof of his commitment: snow was piled in banks over six feet high, with more blanketing the city almost every day. The harsh Chicago winter was unprecedented. On some streets Nouri’s feet were level with the roofs of cars—cars which wouldn’t be dug out until spring. Anna joked that it was the start of Armageddon.
    At the meeting, the students made plans to show solidarity with their Iranian brethren. They agreed that letters, resolutions, and declarations aimed at restoring constitutional rule were not enough. The system—and the shah—had to go.
    “We need to purify and purge Iran of corruption and repression,” said one student.
    Nouri agreed. “We need to empower workers and farmers. They need to share in Iran’s wealth. It is not just for the privileged few. The first—”
    “But that’s only part of it,” another student cut in. “We need to purify ourselves of Western influences and imperialism. That will only happen if we create a government based on Marxist principles.”
    “No!” another student protested. “We need to create a structure based on Islamic law. An Islamic republic.”
    Nouri frowned. “Wait!” His hand shot up. “Not everything should be cast out. The shah is evil, and he needs to go. But he did build roads, and he brought electricity and water to many villages. Education too. We need to make sure that progress continues. That is what will enrich our people.”
    “What about the land he stole from the mullahs and farmers?” one of the students shouted. “Is that enriching the people? His so-called reforms have brought nothing but misery. Meanwhile, he and his cronies get rich at our expense. And anyone who disagrees with them ends up in prison to be tortured. Or worse.” The student spoke with passion. Others joined in, and a frenzy of shouting erupted.
    Nouri remembered Anna saying how politics and religion didn’t mix. He raised his voice above the din. “I’m not defending the shah. I’m just saying—”
    “Not defending the shah? Your father works for the oil company,” a student spit out. “He is nothing but a lackey.”
    Nouri was taken aback. How did they know that?
    As if reading his mind, the student went on. “Do you think we don’t know who you are? We make it a point to identify everyone who comes to our meetings.”
    Nouri swallowed. “Surely you would not denounce me because of my family. Many of us come from wealthy families, but we are not our fathers.”
    “Prove it,” a student cried, his voice dripping with scorn. “Prove to us that you are not a spy for the CIA or SAVAK.”
    Nouri didn’t know how to respond, but to his surprise, the leader, Massoud, came to his defense. He held up his arms in a placating gesture. “Nouri is no spy.” He turned to the others.