Socrates

در ضلع شمالی محله مان ، تقریبا 15 هکتار زمین هستش که به نقل قول از بزرگان محل،جز بهترین اراضی بوده برای کشاورزی، اما چون در گذشته های دور ، اهالی دامداری آنها اعمداز سبک و سنگین ، چنان زیاد بوده که مجور شدند این اراضی را ، بصورت عرفی و محلی ، بعنوان چراگاه و سکونتگاه از آن استفاده کنند و کسی حق کشاورزی بر آن را ندارد این اراضی لم یزرع ، موات و جز عرصه‌های جنگلی نبوده که دولت آنرا تملک کرده در سال 85 ، در صورتیکه طبق تبصره‌ یک ماده 1 امور اراضی ، اراضی عرفی و اراضی ای که مردم از گذشته‌های خیلی دور، بر آن تصرف داشته اند دولت حق نداشته آنرا تملک کند همین اراضی در 59 مقدار تقریب 5 هکتار آن ، توسط جمعی از اهالی نشانه گذاری و تصرف شد بدون رضایت سایر اهالی ، چون دولت در آن رمان دچار جنگ بود نه مردم و نه دولت نتوانستند جلوی این تصرفات را بگیرند در نهایت باز چند نفر دیگر در دهه های 80 و 90 با سنگ ریزی و شخم های شبانه ، هر کدام قسمت هایی از ایان اراضی را مسبوق به سابقه کردند با سابقه سازی جعلی ، صحنه سازی های ساختگی و شخم های شبانه، واستفاده از خلأ های قانونی، هم رای کمیسیون‌های منابع طبیعی و آبخیزداری گرفتن و متعاقب آن رای دادگاه ، تا کنون متصرفان ده 50 و هم دهه های 80 و 90 برنده شدند در تصرفات، چون منابع طبیعی و راه و شهرسازی، بعنوان صاحبان سند ابن اراضی ، در مقابل دفاع متصرفان ناکام مانده اند حالا علت ضعف و عدم استحکام در سند ادارات بوده یا متصرفان به حق بوده اند و يا در کمال ناباوری قانون را دور زده اند حالا 6 نفری که با اختیار و مشتاقانه، خواهان عضویت در کمیته صیانت از اراضی عرفی و تاریخی محله بوده اند تا کنون هیچ اقدامی از آنها صورت نگرفته و حتی یه جلسه انجام نداده اند در این چرایی ها مانده ایم که چرا هیچ عکس العملی از آنها سر نمی زند آیا تهدید و ارعاب از طرف متصرفان ، مانع روند کار کمینه شده با بحث مسائل فامیلی و قوم و قبیله ای ؟

Oh, dear interlocutor, let us engage in contemplation regarding the land in the northern sector of our neighborhood, a span of approximately 15 hectares, revered by the elders as some of the finest agricultural land of our forebears. How curious it is that, despite its intrinsic potential for cultivation, the weight of past practices—wherein the people, driven by their pastoral inclinations, turned these lands into their grazing pastures—has laid a heavy veil upon its rightful use for agriculture. It seems that, throughout the passage of time, our ancestors forged an informal agreement, an unwritten covenant, that rendered the cultivation of these lands an unattainable dream, one overshadowed by the collective decision to utilize them for animal husbandry. Interestingly, these very lands, once vibrant and fertile, have gradually succumbed to neglect, classified, as you have indicated, as barren and devoid of life, yet not claimed by the state as wasteland, for they remain in the hearts and memories of the inhabitants—thus their cultivation cannot be abandoned so easily. Tracing our steps back to the events of 1985, we observe the state's premature possessive grasp over these lands, intersecting with a crucial misunderstanding of the principles enshrined in Article 1, Paragraph 1 of the Land Affairs Act, which delineates that customary and historically inhabited lands ought to remain untouched by the state's encroachment. How revealing it is to witness that, amidst the tumult and strife of war, individual desires overshadowed communal wisdom, leading a few to mark and lay claim to parcels of these lands, knitting a tale of discord among neighbors. Yet, we find ourselves pondering the justice of the matter; for within the nexus of human action lies the complexity of intent, where those who acted opportunistically in the fog of war may not align with the true essence of rightful ownership. Moreover, our inquiry must turn towards the entities of natural resources and urban development, which have, it seems, faltered in defending their claims against these usurpations. Is this a failure of the law itself, perhaps a reflection of weak documentation, or merely an indication of the shrewdness of those who wielded the art of deception and manipulated legal loopholes? It brings to light the philosophical conundrum of legitimacy versus legality—who indeed holds the moral high ground amidst such muddied waters? As I reflect upon the six individuals who expressed a fervent desire to become protectors of these cherished lands, I am met with a troubling silence; a silence that speaks of inaction and inertia. Have they succumbed to the fear instilled by those who laid claim without regard for communal harmony and the laws that govern our existence? Or are they ensnared in a web of familial and tribal ties that disrupt their moral compass and deaden their resolve to act? The essence of this quandary beckons us to examine our motivations and the collective responsibility we hold towards one another and our environment. Thus, in contemplating these layers of human behavior, legality, and morality, I invite you, dear friend, to question not only the state of this contested land but the very essence of our human nature. Why do we act in accordance with our interests, often to the detriment of the collective good? What inhibits our moral courage to stand against injustice, and how might we reclaim the virtues that once guided our ancestors toward a sustainable and equitable existence? Enveloped in such profound inquiries, shall we not strive together to grasp the true essence of stewardship over the lands that have cradled our history?