(19/54) “It has always been my philosophy: wherever I am, I try to make the most of the responsibilities I am given. Managing a factory was not my ideal position. I had hoped to find a place where I could have more of a national impact. But I tried my best to improve the lives of the people nearest to me. I continued to hold meetings with the workers. I studied employment practices from all over the world, and drafted a policy of worker’s rights. It was very progressive for the time. But when I presented the document to the Department of Labor— it was approved for the entire factory. Five thousand lives were made better. In 1975 the king made an announcement that he was dissolving all political parties and combining them into one. He claimed that it was an attempt at unity, but it was abhorrent to me. A country cannot be ruled by a single voice. In the next election I decided to return to Nahavand and run for parliament as my own man. Mitra was against it. She told me that I was too honest for politics, too naive. She said: ‘Even if you win. You’re a single voice. The rest of the parliament will still be controlled by the king.’ Even my father didn’t want me to run. He didn’t think I stood a chance, and he didn’t want to see me get my heart broken. The king had to approve all candidates, and he’d chosen two of his closest allies as my opponents. One of them played volleyball with the king and empress. The other was Undersecretary of Education for the entire country. He was so confident of his victory that he’d already resigned from his previous position. After I announced my candidacy, he paid me a visit. He told me: ‘I want you to know. Everyone in government is supporting me. And this position has been promised to me.’ I told him: ‘I’m very happy for you. I have no intention of winning. But I am going to say what I have to say.”