Plastic Dove With Koranic Verses

Iran, 1999

It’s difficult to find souvenirs in Iran; one searches for that irresistible blend of beauty, authenticity, and kitsch. But as any visitor to an Islamic country soon learns, the most captivating expression of any Muslim culture is its calligraphy. This plastic dove bears on its wings verses from the Quran, along with a single Arabic expression on its chest: Masha’Allah. What wonders God has willed!

I hoped for an opportunity to utter this phrase in the thousand-year-old Iranian city of Isfahan, where—as the only American tourist in vast Imam Khomeini Square—I awaited a total eclipse of the sun.

It was a beautiful afternoon, warm and clear, and the square soon filled up with thousands of Iranian families. As the invisible moon began to move across the face of the sun, the crowd gradually became silent. All eyes were on the thinning solar crescent— until, shockingly, a group of bearded youths sitting near me unzipped a carpet bag, pulled out automatic weapons, and began firing into the air. Pumping their fists and shouting angry slogans, they set an American flag ablaze. Television crews from all over the Middle East, assembled in the square for the eclipse, rushed over to film the outburst.

At that moment, something extraordinary happened. Every man, woman, and child sitting close to me rose spontaneously to their feet and, without speaking a word, formed a tight ring around me. A little boy held my wrist; an elderly man placed his hand on my shoulder. Several women, cloaked in rusari, stood stalwart by my side. This circle of strangers shielded me until the pop-up protest ended—at which point the radical Islamists calmly stashed their weapons, and sat down to enjoy the eclipse with the rest of us.

As the sun finally disappeared behind by the moon, its fiery corona blazed against the stars. A spontaneous cry rose from the crowd. Masha’Allah! Masha’Allah! I joined right in. It no longer mattered that I’d found no key rings in Persepolis, or snow globes at the Tomb of Hafez. My souvenir from Persia is this story.