Martin Luther King, in one of his historic speeches in 1963, said “I have a dream”. Today, on the 17th of May, the International Day against Homophobia, in Chicago, I, Arsham Parsi, a queer activist who must live in exile say “I have a dream, Too”. My dream is that one day the rights of all queers will be recognized and respected. That one day no one will be executed, tortured, arrested, imprisoned, isolated by society or disowned by their family and community for being queer. A day when our sexual orientation will not deprive us of our rights. That is my wish and that of all those who can not speak for themselves. Although they have not chosen me as their voice, I declare this dream of mine, and I will repeat it and I’ll hope to one day achieve this dream of mine.
Today I want to share something that a few people know about. A few months ago in Toronto, I was in the subway, tired, and on my way back from college. Someone called out for me in Persian and said “Are you Arsham Parsi?”. Upon hearing my affirmative response, he slapped me hard in the face and said “I hate you and the organization for which you work and all the lies you say about the situation of queers being bad in Iran”. I understood the rest of what he wanted to say. Firmly, I told him “I can call the police, and I hope you know that to slap someone for their sexual orientation can result in imprisonment here, so I hope you have a good reason for doing it”. He asked “have you ever heard of the tribe of Lut who were stoned by God for committing sodomy?” That question resulted in us standing and talking in the subway for about two hours. It might surprise you that after that he hugged me, kissed my face, apologized and said, “If queers are the people you are talking about, I have no problem with them”. We are now friends, and speak over the phone every few weeks, and sometimes treat each other to coffee.
A homophobic person changed. Someone who, due to lack of access to information about queers, had been brought up as a homophobic person. It is interesting that his attitude changed when I gave him a keychain as a small gift. I asked him “How old are you?” He said “in two days I will be 20”. From my bag I took out a gift that I had bought for one of my friends and gave it to him. With curiosity he asked, “What is this?” and I said “Is it not your birthday? Happy birthday, take it.” His next sentence was “I do not have a problem with real queers. My problem is with those who sell their bodies”. Friends who work in support of sex workers now had to give him a gift.
This experience had another meaning for me besides being interesting and somewhat funny. That is that in order to fight homophobia, we can not just write articles, have news items, write books, or have campaigns. Parallel to all these things, we have to roll up our sleeves, we have to stand on the streets, and fight against it even if we get slapped, because there is no guarantee that homophobic people will read these materials.
Even getting slapped requires special conditions. Today, queer people are standing on the streets of Jerusalem, Moscow and Istanbul and getting slapped. But what is important is that they are standing, and protesting against their lack of rights.
They will not be arrested and persecuted just because of their sexual orientation but because they are part of a larger civil rights struggle for cultural and social change. Those of us in Canada and in a few other western countries stand on streets without getting slapped, not that in these countries homophobia does not exist, but homophobic people at least fear arrest and persecution. Homophobia is not bound by geographic borders. Right here by this street corner a queer might suffer discrimination because of his/her sexual orientation. We must fight such discrimination as well. But our people in Iran do not even have the conditions in which to resist, stand up, and be slapped. They are not permitted to stand and proclaim “I exist, I have rights, and you have no right to insult me”. They are arrested, persecuted, and their court verdicts might contain no mention of their sexual orientation at all. Their crime might be the disruption of social security or insulting an officer or consumption of alcohol. The judge might deny them the right to have a lawyer. In Iran homosexuality is punishable by law. Such conditions are not only reserved for queers. Women also face barriers. Being a woman in Iran is not a crime but the activists in the One Million Signatures Campaign who want equality between the sexes, when they organize peaceful demonstrations in the streets, they are arrested and persecuted for supposedly breaking the peace not for being a woman.
When we look at conditions in different countries we realize that the fight against homophobia does not have a singular legal, social, or cultural solution and involves a number of different factors.
People are not born homophobic. Just like how people have to learn about democracy and bring it to practice, we need to provide accurate education about different sexual orientations. We all know that violence does not bring freedom and democracy. People don’t become democrat with military attacks and bloodshed and the same applies to being homophobic and respecting human rights. With patients and perseverance we have to change society.
The question that is always asked is how we can in the West support queers in Iran. The answer to that question is not easy because sometimes the differences in language, culture and practices results in us causing problems rather than solving issues. One has to decide very carefully and cautiously. In addition to struggling against an oppressive regime we must support victims of homophobia. Many leave Iran regularly because of the difficult situation, become homeless refugees and need help. One can help so that books are published, articles are translated and campaigns are organized and strengthened. This is big and valuable help.
Unfortunately these days we are witnessing millions of dollars being spent on election campaigns of two candidates of the same Party who should in principle share in their main positions and have differences only in the details of their points of views. A negligible percent of these campaign amounts and budgets can provide for the physical security and wellbeing of many human beings. One of these human beings is Mehdi Nadami, a trancesexual in Tehran, who, is in a solitary cell in prison because of defending himself in an aggressive attack for rape. He is condemned to remain in jail or pay 18 million tomans to get out, the sum which he never had during his young life.
In conclusion, I thank organizations in defense of queer rights who provided this opportunity and we hope one day we can invite you to join us not in an event against homophobia, but rather an event in celebration of queer rights in Iran. That day will come; we only need to continue our struggle.