Tehran, 11 February 1979 We won! But why did I not let my joy explode, as did all my companions that night? Was it because I saw the face of defeat? That of General Rahimi’s, the commander of martial law in Tehran? Two years ago, I had photographed him in his full imperial regalia, with medals upon his uniform. This evening he is paraded in front of television cameras in his shirt. His interrogation, led by Ibrahim Yazdi, sounds like a trial: “Do you want to repent?”
“I swore allegiance to the Shah and I will not renege on it now!”
A foreign journalist then asks him if he thinks he will be executed. General Rahimi reaches to the sky and says: “I am in the hands of Allah.”
Five days later, I photograph him naked to the waist, in a box at the Tehran morgue. He had been shot during the night, along with three other generals, after a brief – secret – trial.
From that day, the revolution ceased to be mine.