I have become imprisoned, Oh beloved, by the mole on your lip!
I saw your ailing eyes and became ill through love.
Open the door of the tavern and let us go there day and night,
For I am sick and tired of the mosque and seminary's wove.
- Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini
The name Ruhollah Khomeini conjures images of stern revolution, iron-clad decrees, and the establishment of an Islamic Republic that shifted the tectonic plates of Middle Eastern politics.
Yet behind this resolute leader lay an unexpected, deeply human facet—a man who, in his youth, wielded the pen with tenderness and romanticism, a poet whose words were imbued with compassion for the feminine plight, one who understood love, sorrow, and the fragility of life.
Born on 24 September 1902 in the humble village of Khomeyn, Ruhollah Khomeini’s early life was marked by loss.
His father, Seyyed Mostafa Hindi, was murdered when he was just a few months old, leaving his mother, Hajar, to raise him alone—a resilient woman of quiet dignity.
This maternal influence, strengthened by the absence of paternal authority, forged in the young Ruhollah a profound empathy for the hardships faced by women.
He understood, as few men of his time did, the quiet burdens borne by mothers, daughters, and wives.
In his youth, Khomeini expressed these understandings not through fiery sermons but through poetry—stanzas that spoke of love, of heartbreak, and of the ephemeral nature of existence.
His verses were tender, weaving the soft threads of Persian mysticism with a profound sensitivity to the human condition.
One might argue that these poems were shaped not only by the romantic traditions of Persian literature but also by the lived experience of witnessing his mother’s struggles, echoing the silenced voices of countless women.
Poetry to politics
Though much of his poetic work has since been overshadowed by the grand narrative of his political legacy, the delicate threads of his early poems still reveal a man of feeling, one who contemplated the world with a romantic’s eye.
His poetry, often overlooked, reveals a more nuanced side to the man who would later be known as Ayatollah Khomeini—a side that appreciated beauty, sought justice, and yearned for the sublime.
Yet this sensitivity was not incompatible with the stern leadership role he would later embrace.
Rather, it acted as a precursor to his political convictions. Khomeini’s empathy for women, cultivated in his early life, influenced his later thoughts on governance.
His understanding of the plight of the oppressed—whether women, the poor, or the downtrodden—would manifest in his vision for an Islamic society that, in theory, sought to protect the vulnerable.
However, the vehicle for this vision would become the very tool of oppression for many, as the Islamic Revolution demanded unwavering submission to religious authority.
A shift of metaphor and mission
As Khomeini rose to prominence, his words took on a new form.
No longer draped in the romantic flourishes of Persian poetry, they became sharp, calculated, and political.
The same man who once wrote of love and sorrow would now issue fatwas that changed the course of nations.
His oratory, once lyrical and introspective, was transformed into a weapon of revolution, galvanising masses against the Pahlavi regime.
It is within this transformation that the most intriguing paradox of Khomeini’s life emerges.
How could a man whose poetry reflected the softness of the human heart, who empathised with the silent struggles of women and the oppressed, become the figurehead of a revolution that, for many, imposed new forms of repression?
How did the romantic poet morph into the austere Ayatollah, whose vision of an Islamic Republic left little room for the nuances of individual freedom?
The answer may lie in the complex intersection of personal experience, religious conviction, and political strategy.
Khomeini was not a simple figure; he embodied contradiction.
His poetry was deeply influenced by Persian mysticism and Sufi philosophy, which emphasise both love and discipline, transcendence, and submission to a higher authority.
As his political vision matured, this Sufi-inflected mysticism gave way to a more rigid interpretation of Islamic law, one that prioritised the collective will of the Islamic ummah over individual liberties.
Between compassion and control
Khomeini’s sensitivity to women’s struggles, once expressed so poignantly in his early life, became intertwined with his religious ideologies.
He saw the liberation of women through the lens of Islam—arguing that true freedom lay in adherence to Islamic modesty, morality, and familial roles.
Yet many critics would argue that his version of "liberation" was paradoxical, imposing restrictions that further constrained women's autonomy.
His poetic soul may have longed for a world of justice and love, but the path he chose to realise this vision was fraught with authoritarianism.
The pen of the poet was traded for the sword of the revolutionary, and in this trade, much of the softness that had once characterised his youthful works was lost.
Legacy of duality
Ruhollah Khomeini stands as a figure of dualities: A man who, in his youth, wrote of love and longing, of sorrow and the plight of women, yet later in life, became the stern leader of a nation.
His poetry speaks of a man deeply attuned to the human condition, while his political actions reflect a conviction that sometimes sacrificed the individual for the greater good.
To understand Khomeini fully, one must look beyond the rigid portrait of the Ayatollah and consider the romantic poet who once filled his world with beauty.
It is in this contradiction—between the romantic and the revolutionary, the poet and the politician—that Ruhollah Khomeini’s true complexity emerges, a figure who continues to confound and intrigue, even decades after his death.
Khomeini's life is a testament to the idea that the human soul is never simple, never reducible to a single narrative.
He was both the poet of love and the architect of revolution, a man whose early sensitivity gave way to a hardened vision of governance, but whose legacy, in all its complexity, still resonates through the history of Iran and the world.
