Врач из Кермана вспоминает подвиг генерала Мостафы Рустая, который случайно пересек границу с Кувейтом во время ирано-иракской войны

A Man Like My Father My father is a kind man who spent a lifetime serving Iran, our homeland, as an engineer and in military uniform. He served in the Air Force, which for the people is symbolized by its fighter jets and its pilots. From childhood, our home was in military housing complexes, where I saw pilots every day in their majestic uniforms—men with athletic builds and straight backs, walking with dignity. The roar of fighter jets was a familiar sound to us. I was a child when a long war broke out between Iran and Iraq. In those childhood years, I did not understand why the war had started, or why two neighboring countries had to fight each other, or why young men—who should have been walking with their beloveds under the shade of trees—were being killed on battlefields. But I knew that on the ground and in the sky, there were men defending Iran. Even then, as a child, without knowing their names, I loved them. I never believed that a day would come when I would consider one of those pilots a hero, as I do my father—and would love him and weep at his passing. That man, who like my father dedicated the best years of his life—his youth—to defending Iran, was Brigadier General Mostafa Roustaie. A man whose writings I had read for years on the science page of the Shargh newspaper, and I had the honor of collaborating with him on several articles about war and peace. Over the past ten years, I read his articles—often published with his two colleagues—and over the past two years, I followed his health condition and spoke with him on the phone several times. Thus, my acquaintance with the pilot who now rests in the soil of Shiraz began first through his articles, and then through his illness. To me, he was different from my regular patients. He was a man cut from the same cloth as my father—a soldier of the homeland. A man about whom I had heard so much from his close friends, who are also my friends. A man I knew had faced death many times in his F-14 during those eight years of war. Now, today, as he was laid to rest a few days ago as a worthy son of his homeland, I consider it my duty to write this note. This note is a tribute to Brigadier General Mostafa Roustaie, and a message for my daughters and for all the sons and daughters of this land—so they may know who has strived for Iran and how their thinking evolved. Before anything else, I wish to offer my condolences on the passing of Brigadier General Roustaie to his wife, Golnaz, and his children, Ali; to his friends Hassan Fattahi, Fereydoun Ali-Mazandarani, and Fatemeh Mohebbi. Though his body rests in the earth, he has left us a legacy of enlightening articles, along with an important book he translated about the Iran-Iraq war, and through this legacy he lives on. I also wish to note, as a mother and a wife, that if General Roustaie was able to become a man of the skies and fight for Iran, if he was able to pursue his lifelong love of astronomy, if he was able to think and write for Iran—much of that was due to having a kind and devoted wife, and children who knew their father was always engaged in something important. Men who leave this world with a rich life and a lasting legacy—like General Roustaie—are blessed with the gift of an exceptional and supportive partner. Man of the Skies The love of flight has been with humanity since ancient times. Humans have always longed to fly like birds, but they lacked wings. Yet humans possessed something more valuable than wings—a brain large enough to use and build flying machines. In Iran, after the first simple aircraft entered the country, young people became passionate about flying. During the second Pahlavi era and the reign of Mohammad Reza Shah Pahlavi, many young people joined the Air Force. Someone like my father was drawn to the engineering side, while the late Brigadier General Mostafa Roustaie was drawn to flight. Between 1961 and 1978 in the Iranian calendar—the golden years of Iran’s Air Force—talented young men like Mostafa Roustaie joined the ranks. Roustaie joined the Air Force nearly a decade before I was born, seven years before the waves of revolution swept across Iran. He was a handsome and well-built young man. Because he had learned English well in high school, and since all Air Force training was in English, he advanced quickly and was sent to the United States to complete his pilot training. At that time, relations between Iran and America were friendly, and the two countries’ militaries had military and training agreements. America was a fascinating country to him—a land with characteristics distinct from Iran. A country whose founding was still less than 200 years old when he arrived (America was established in 1776). For the young Iranian pilot, America held several important lessons that he recalled until the end of his life. He had loved astronomy since childhood and had taught himself as much as he could in Iran. Now, in America, while undergoing the rigorous and demanding training of fighter piloting at Laughlin Air Force Base, he had the golden opportunity to also pursue astronomy. What he always highlighted about America was the seriousness of the training process. He always said: “Teach well once, and you will benefit from its fruits forever.” He trained in America for two years and then returned to Iran. It is important to note that in the generation of my father and General Roustaie, returning to Iran and serving the homeland was considered a highly valuable duty. They believed that the people’s money had been spent on them, so they had a responsibility to serve their country and return. General Roustaie was a man of the skies, flying F-4 Phantoms and F-14 Tomcats for many years. He had seen Iran’s sky from above the clouds. He had much to say about the war, and I would like to share one of his stories before moving to the next section, which is very dear to me. General Roustaie said: “One day, an Iraqi pilot who had been targeted over Iranian skies and had ejected from his aircraft was captured and brought to our airbase. We treated him very respectfully and even invited him to lunch. We knew he was a young Iraqi doing his duty for his country, just like us. We talked to him. I asked him: ‘Do you have a wife and children?’ He said yes, a wife and two young children. I was just like him. I asked him: ‘Do you know the reason for the war between Iran and Iraq?’ He shook his head and said: ‘Not really. I just know there is a war between us and you, and we must attack you.’ That answer was the most common response that both Iranians and Iraqis had at the time. The circumstances and the atmosphere were not such that I could speak freely with him. I only said to him: ‘This war is not in the interest of either Iran or Iraq. It is in the interest of others.’ His eyes filled with tears and he asked: ‘What will they do to me in Iran?’ I said: ‘Don’t worry. We Iranians are hospitable.’ He had to be transferred to a prisoner-of-war camp. We saw him off and said: ‘We hope the war ends soon and you return to your home.'” Man of the Stars One of the great blessings of my life is that for several years now, I have fallen in love with astronomy. In high school, I loved physics and mathematics, and today, while I practice medicine at the clinic during the day, I gaze at the stars at night and spend part of each day learning astronomy. It will be interesting for the readers of this article to know that the one who watered the seed of my love for astronomy was Hassan Fattahi—the colleague and close friend of General Roustaie, and his companion and collaborator during the last ten years of his precious life. I came to know General Roustaie through Hassan Fattahi, who wrote articles with him and his other colleague—Brigadier General Fereydoun Ali-Mazandarani—every Thursday. Perhaps the most important common ground between General Roustaie and me was our shared love for global peace and astronomy. Alongside his love for flight and the sky—which was General Roustaie’s main profession—his love for astronomy was the most significant passion in his life. He had carried this passion since elementary and high school, when libraries flourished and in Shiraz—where he lived—schools had motivated teachers who guided students toward science and literature. General Roustaie often told stories of how he earned his English diploma alongside his high school diploma, how he read many works of world literature, and how he learned astronomy. International readers of this article might find it interesting to know that the University of Shiraz was one of the first scientific centres in Iran to promote modern astronomy. His love for astronomy did not merely give him vast knowledge about stars and galaxies; it also gave him a deep insight into humanity and the cosmos, which I will explain in the final section of this article. I would now like to share two memories of his love for astronomy—how it was rooted in the depths of his heart, so much so that it accompanied him even during the Iran-Iraq war. The late General Roustaie had a small telescope. During the war, as an alert pilot, he often had to stay at the base. At night, he would set up that small telescope in the airbase compound and lose himself in observing the stars. Gradually, others grew curious about what he was doing. Some joked that he was searching for extraterrestrial life. Eventually, one night, the base commander himself came to General Roustaie, looked through his telescope, and listened to his scientific explanations. Finally, the commander ordered that no one should prevent Pilot Mostafa Roustaie from observing the sky. He always said: “Astronomy was very effective in reducing the pain and healing the wounds of the eight-year war.” His love for astronomy was such that during the war, when the Tehran International Book Fair was held, he would travel 24 hours from southern Iran to Tehran just to buy astronomy books in English, and then return. The last book he read about astronomy was The Origin, one of whose translators was Hassan Fattahi. He thoroughly enjoyed reading The Origin and recommended it to everyone—a book written by the prominent Iranian cosmologist Bahram Mobasher. I would like to end this section with another memory of General Roustaie. He said that during the war, they flew long night missions lasting several hours. They would fly over Iran for hours to protect the country’s skies from Iraqi fighters. There was no sign of enemy aircraft, and a heavy silence had fallen everywhere. Suddenly, through the cockpit window, he noticed a star that cannot be seen from the ground in Iran, but can be seen at high altitude. On that quiet night, all his attention was drawn to that beloved star in the sky, and he forgot that down below, there was war. While he was lost in stargazing and flying over southwestern Iran, he suddenly realized that beneath him was a city with bright, colourful lights. He was amazed, because during the war, lights were turned off at night in Iran. He then realized he had crossed the border and was in Kuwaiti airspace. Meanwhile, the appearance of an unknown aircraft in Kuwaiti airspace put all military forces in the Persian Gulf on alert. Roustaie and his back-seater immediately turned around, headed back toward Iran, and flew low over the waters of the Persian Gulf to return. This was a memory that General Roustaie perhaps told for the first time some thirty years after the war ended. He said: “If love and passion reside in your heart, you will pursue it in war and in peace.” He always said: “Listen to the voice of your heart, then pursue it with seriousness and proper training.” Man of the Homeland The late General Roustaie truly loved Iran and took pride in being Iranian, but his affection for his homeland was not merely a product of being an army pilot. Soldiers are generally known for their patriotism, but Roustaie’s patriotism went beyond that. He was not an extremist nationalist, but rather saw Iran as a brilliant part of human history and civilization. Roustaie was a well-read man who had read extensively in various fields, especially history, so he had a good understanding of Iran. He was proud of Iran, but he did not see Iran as separate from human civilization or turn a blind eye to its people’s shortcomings. He knew Iran, and it was through this knowledge that he loved his country and wished for its peace and development. He always said: “I fought for Iran, but I do not love war—not for Iran, nor for any country on this planet.” If I were to divide his relationship with Iran into several phases, I would say that in his youth, up until 1980, he read and learned a great deal about Iran. This was evident in his conversations. If you asked him—an Imperial officer who had joined the army seven years before the 1979 Islamic Revolution—about that event, you could tell from his questions how deep his understanding of the revolution was. From 1980 to 1988, he fought for Iran and was a distinguished pilot—though he was never a pilot who craved enemy kills; he only engaged when necessary, when his own aircraft was at risk. In the post-war years, his mind was occupied with several important questions about Iran. Why did Iran, with such a rich history of civilization and culture, fall behind in global scientific and technological competition? Why did Iran not experience anything like the Renaissance? Why did Iran lose the Russo-Persian wars and much of its territory? Why is Iran not among the developed countries? These questions, and many others, occupied his mind at night, and he immersed himself in study. This continued until, about ten years ago, a highly fruitful collaboration began between General Roustaie, his lifelong friend and colleague Brigadier General Fereydoun Ali-Mazandarani, and their younger colleague Hassan Fattahi—a physicist deeply concerned with Iran’s underdevelopment. This three-person team, with whom I also collaborated several times and with whom I published several joint articles, shone brightly in Iran. Some of their articles raised issues for the first time in the country. This ten-year period was what I would call “writing about Iran.” Now, the young pilot from years past, along with a friend of his own generation and a younger friend of his children’s generation, wanted to write down everything he had read and thought about Iran, to pass it on to the next generation. This writing continued, and I witnessed that even during his final two years of illness—except for the last few months—he was still pursuing his articles. In every way, I call General Roustaie a “Man of the Homeland” and consider him a diligent son of Iran—whether when he fought, when he thought, or when he wrote for Iran. Man of Peace In this final section, as my hands tremble with grief at the loss of General Roustaie, I am also grieving another man whose existence was a great treasure to me, to my good friend Hassan Fattahi, and to the editor of the Countercurrents platform. He was Professor John Scales Avery. A man who brought distinction to planet Earth. A man who had a clear and lucid mind in the midst of the world’s chaos. We Iranians love Professor Avery for two reasons, and when he passed away, we felt as though we had lost a kind father. First, we love him because he loved Iran and appreciated this civilization. He saw Iran as a precious part of human civilization and wrote two books about it. When Professor Avery and his brother were teenagers, their family lived in Iran for several years and returned to America with many fond memories of our country. The other reason is that we have read and continue to read his books. Professor Avery generously made all his books available to Iranians for free, through his friend and student Hassan Fattahi. His books circulated among eager Iranians like the scent of spring flowers, and they still do. Perhaps no other country in the world has taught his book Science and Society as much as Iran. Now I want to reveal a great and magnificent secret. General Roustaie, through Hassan Fattahi, became acquainted with Professor Avery and began reading his books. Meeting a thinker like Professor Avery—who was 20 years older—opened a new window to the world for him. Roustaie, himself a well-read man, had clearly realized that he was standing before a wise man—a mountain whose heights he must scale by reading his books to see the world more widely. Over the past ten years, as General Roustaie enthusiastically read Professor Avery’s various works, his worldview underwent remarkable transformations. He came to believe that the true goal of war should be peace. Fighting to acquire more land would ultimately harm all of humanity. He came to believe that many wars smell of oil—and how many mothers mourn their young sons. The seasoned general said: “War is perhaps the worst way to establish peace. Although human society needs armies, the world’s largest budgets should not be spent on weapons.” As a high-ranking military officer, he called for strict regulations on weapons of mass destruction, and he wrote about this in his articles. General Roustaie loved Iran while also loving the entire planet. He said: “Ultimately, humanity will understand that this entire planet is one country, and every nation is a city within that great country. Ultimately, humanity will understand that economic and educational inequality leads to ruin, and if a girl in the mountains of Afghanistan remains uneducated, the price will be paid elsewhere in the world.” He recognized national borders, but said: “Let cultures transcend borders.” He believed that we should spend more money on research beyond Earth—for example, on terraforming Mars—rather than on conquest and war. As General Roustaie read Professor Avery’s books, he always said: “Until Homo sapiens reaches a level of understanding that dialogue is better than bullets, peace better than war, knowledge better than superstition and pseudoscience, equality better than inequality—the people of this planet will never see tranquility.” Since he was also deeply knowledgeable about astronomy, he had a view that extended beyond this planet and even the solar system. He saw Earth as one of the planets in which he believed life exists. He said: “Perhaps one day a cosmic network of intelligent planets will form in the Milky Way.” He strongly believed in an evolutionary perspective and said: “Teaching evolutionary theory and information theory—on which Professor Avery wrote a superb book—will teach the human species the right way to survive and live with dignity.” He had a heartfelt belief that this planet is unique, and humans must live honorably and justly upon it. May the memory of Brigadier General Mostafa Roustaie be forever cherished. Subscribe to Our Newsletter Get the latest CounterCurrents updates delivered straight to your inbox. Dr. Zahra Mohebi-Pourkani is a distinguished General Practitioner and Family Physician with a distinguished career in medical service and public health leadership. Since 2008, she has accrued extensive clinical experience across diverse regions, currently serving as the Head of a government clinic in Kerman province, Iran. Beyond her clinical and administrative responsibilities, Dr. Mohebi is deeply engaged in scholarly and humanitarian pursuits. She maintains a strong academic interest in amateur astronomy, development studies, and the dynamic relationship between science and society. This interest extends to her work as a contributor to reputable Iranian and international newspapers and magazines. Dr. Mohebi is passionately committed to education and capacity building. She dedicates significant effort to pedagogical activities, particularly in fostering scientific curiosity among children through laboratory instruction. Furthermore, she has designed and led professional development courses for her colleagues, focusing on critical topics at the intersection of science and societal progress. Her professional ethos is characterized by a profound commitment to social welfare, evidenced by her non-profit collaborations dedicated to the betterment of Iranian children. A dedicated advocate for global peace, Dr. Mohebi is a vocal proponent of disarmament and stands firmly against the proliferation and use of weapons of mass destruction.