‘I’m Alive’

On dissidents from Iran, Russia, Venezuela, and China

Masih Alinejad in Miami, October 2021 (Jay Nordlinger)

Oslo, Norway

One of the first people I see, here at the Oslo Freedom Forum, is Masih Alinejad. Her opening words to me, as we embrace, are, “I’m alive.” Yes, she is.

She has dodged death for a long time: forced to run from safehouse to safehouse, in the United States. She is a journalist and human-rights activist from Iran. I have written about her, and podcasted with her, several times.

We first met in 2021. My ensuing article was called “A Free Spirit.” That, she is. She is irrepressible and ebullient. She is often called “fearless,” and with good reason (very good reason).

But is any human being truly fearless? A lot of people who do great and brave things are scared to death—but they go ahead and do them anyway. That’s part of what makes them great, and exceptional.

On May 22, Masih published a piece at The Next Move, a new publication founded by Garry Kasparov. The heading of the piece is “Facing My Would-Be Assassins.” Masih begins,

The first time I saw him nearly three years ago, he was standing outside my house. I didn’t realize at the time that the Islamic Republic of Iran had paid him to kill me.

I was in my garden—my happy place—picking cucumbers and basil, when I spotted a gigantic man. He seemed somewhat normal at first and I was used to people coming up to my garden to admire my sunflowers. But then something felt wrong. I grew suspicious and ran inside.

A bit after that first run-in, that same burly and dark-haired man walked up to my Brooklyn home on a beautiful July day, peered inside, knocked on the door, and even tried to break in. He had a loaded AK-47 automatic weapon nestled comfortably in his car parked right outside.

The Islamic Republic of Iran has been after my head for years . . .

Yes. Agent after agent.

More from Masih’s article:

Fast forward to the trial in New York where I faced my would-be assassins. I was a ball of emotions—I felt nervous, worried, and generally sick to my stomach.

But I overcame those feelings. I looked them straight in the eyes . . .

That is Masih Alinejad. “I’m alive.” Yes, she is. And an example to us all.

***

Vladimir Kara-Murza, too, is alive. To shake his hand is an immense privilege, and a relief. It is also answered prayer. He is a Russian democracy leader. If that is so, why isn’t he in prison? He has been—but was released in the prisoner swap last August: a major, intricate swap, involving seven countries.

I can’t remember when I first met Vladimir. Was it 2016? Since then, I have written many articles about him—him and his various doings. The turbulence of his life. We have also recorded several podcasts. I recorded a podcast with his wife, Evgenia, too.

She has been indispensable (like Avital Sharansky and other exemplary women we could name).

Here is one article, written shortly after Vladimir’s arrest in 2022. Here is a post that accompanied my podcast with Evgenia.

Maybe I could quote something Evgenia said about her marriage, her husband?

“When we were dating, 20 years ago, I was looking at him and thinking, ‘You know, I can imagine spending my life with this man. He’s smart, he’s funny, he’s honorable. He has so much integrity.’ Later, when the poisonings and persecutions began, I thought, ‘I wish our lives could be a little more boring.’ But I do admire Vladimir. I’ve always admired and respected him for his principled stand, and I would never have him any different.”

To see Vladimir Kara-Murza alive and well, here in Oslo—well, I hardly have the words. Just gratitude. Great gratitude.

***

It is gratifying to see Leopoldo López too: the Venezuelan democracy leader, a former political prisoner. He comes from a tradition of dissidence, through his father’s family and his mother’s family, both. These people have faced prison and exile, generation after generation.

I meet Leopoldo’s parents: his father, also “Leopoldo,” and his mother, Antonieta. Leopoldo (père, or padre) tells me about his education in the United States—which included, among other institutions, Columbia University. One of his courses was in anthropology.

Taught be Margaret Mead? None other than.

(Education in the United States has meant a lot, to millions around the world. It has been good for them—and for the United States. Perhaps we could take up this subject another day.)

The Lópezes—the senior members of the family and the junior members—are in exile in Spain. Venezuelans are in exile all over, in a big diaspora.

Some 9.5 million people have fled Venezuela. “When we meet again in a year, that number may be 10.5 million.” So says Leopoldo (fils, or hijo) in a talk here at the Freedom Forum.

The population of Venezuela stands at about 28 million. The country is draining.

In recent days, the chavista dictatorship, now led by Nicolás Maduro, has arrested 50-some people. If I have heard Leopoldo correctly, he knows 25 of them personally. One man is 84 years old—“four years older than my father,” says Leopoldo. Another man is 21.

I have long admired a slogan associated with Leopoldo: “El que se cansa, pierde,” which is to say, “He who tires, loses.” Some people have tired, when it comes to fighting Venezuela’s dictatorship. It is only natural. As Leopoldo notes, they have said, “No más,” “No more.” He does not blame them. He does not judge.

He himself, however, feels compelled to keep going.

Leopoldo is also fond of saying, “Freedom is like oxygen.” You never think about oxygen, when you have it: you just breathe. But if you were ever deprived of it—you could think of nothing but oxygen, and the need for it.

One more theme of Leopoldo’s: the importance of having a purpose in life. Something to get up in the morning to do. In fact, I titled a piece I wrote about him, in 2021, “Leopoldo and His Purpose.” I ended it by quoting him as follows: “People find their purpose in different ways, and I thank God for giving me a purpose in life: to fight for the freedom of my country.”

When I see Leopoldo López, speaking before the audience here in Oslo, I think, “No wonder Maduro is so scared of him.” Maduro is a brute. López is everything Maduro is not.

***

The Oslo Freedom Forum is an event of the Human Rights Foundation, based in New York. HRF has a division known as “Art in Protest.” There is an exhibition at the Freedom Forum—an exhibition that includes this work, Mao’s Guilt:

It is done by a pair of artists known as the “Gao Brothers,” Zhen and Qiang. Zhen was arrested last August for “insulting the reputation of national heroes and martyrs.” He remains in prison. (Gao Zhen is in his late sixties.)

You know who are the national heroes and martyrs? The dissidents, political prisoners, and dead.

More later. Thank you for joining me today, my friends.