By: Nasrin Parvaz
Clare Short
On
22 August we went to the Edinburgh Book Festival for a reading of our writing
by authors at Amnesty’s annual ‘Imprisoned Writers’ events. None of us knew
whose piece would be read and by whom. The first night we all sat in the hall,
then the audience joined us and finally the panel of readers arrived and took
their places on stage. Clare Short was among them. I felt uneasy at the thought
of Clare Short reading my work, because when she went to
Readers
at the first session were writers, journalists, political protesters and Clare
Short as a politician. Before she started to read she spoke against the war in
order to highlight her act of resigning over it. Yes, I thought, you resigned,
but not until it was too late, and British troops were already destroying all
the ministries except oil and information.
What
Ms Short chose to read at the Amnesty event was a very emotional piece by a
friend of mine, and she read it very effectively. But the piece had already
been read last year - and the writer wasn’t among us. I was surprised, having
been told that all the pieces would be new. My piece wasn’t read until the next
day, by which time Clare Short was long gone. Otherwise I would have asked her
this: If she went to
Anyway,
after the reading, Clare Short didn’t stay even to say hello to us. We weren’t
politicians, we had no power that could further her own career. We were
fighters who had survived torture, prison and the execution of friends and
family. One cannot be on both sides of that dividing line!
A
week later I heard that originally Clare Short had been given my piece to read.
Then, just one hour before the program started, she told the organisers that
she refused to read it, they must replace it with another piece! Bravo, she
knows herself well! She could neither put herself in the same place as a prisoner,
and read my piece from his point of view, nor from the torturer’s.
5
September 05