My name is Arsham Parsi. I am the
founder and Executive Director of the Iranian Railroad for Queer Refugees
(IRQR), an international queer human rights non-governmental organization (NGO)
based in Toronto, Canada. The primary mission of IRQR is to aid and assist to
the best of our abilities Iranian Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual and Transgendered
refugees in countries all over the world, and who now face the threat of
deportation back to Iran, in obtaining asylum status in safe countries. IRQR
helps those refugees through their complicated asylum processes and provides
funding for safe houses through donations wherever possible, as most of our
queer refugee clients are in physical danger in their countries of transit as
well.
Today, IRQR is the only active NGO that works on behalf of
the global population of Iranian queers, i.e. Lesbians, Gays, Bisexuals and
Transgendered Persons. We document human rights violations against Iranian
LGBTs on the basis of sexual orientation; provide letters of support for Iranian
queer asylum seekers and refugees; and vigorously support anti-homophobia and
anti-persecution efforts in Iran. Our documentation is widely respected for its
accuracy and credibility.
I am also the coordinator and cultural ambassador for the
Stockholm-based International Lesbian and Gay Cultural Network (ILGCN), an
official member and affiliate of the Brussels-based International Lesbian and
Gay Association (ILGA), the Toronto-based Rainbow Railroad Group, and the
Berlin-based Advisory Committee of the Hirschfeld-Eddy Foundation for LGBT
Human Rights. In April 2008 the Iranian Queer Organization (IRQO), the former
NGO which became the foundation for IRQR today, was awarded the Felipa De Souza
Human Rights Award by the New York-based International Gay and Lesbian Human
Rights Commission (IGLHRC). In June 2008, IRQR was recognized at the Toronto
Pride Award for Excellence in Human Rights.
To aid you in better understanding the harsh, violent and
often lethal persecution of queers in Iran, as well as my and IRQR's commitment
to aid and assist Iranian LGBTs by every means possible, I have my own refugee
story to tell. I was born on 20 September, 1980 in Shiraz, Iran, the
sixth-largest city in the Islamic Republic. Not long after completing basic education
in Shiraz I came to terms with my sexual identity, then began to do what I
could to aid and assist other Iranian queers in a most careful and discrete
manner. Part of my work consisted of helping a local doctor perform research
for a study on HIV among gay and bisexual men in Shiraz. In 2001, four years
before I myself fled Iran, I began covert efforts toward advancing queer civil
rights in Shiraz. In 2003, I helped organize a clandestine Yahoo chat group for
queer Iranians called Voice Celebration. There were a total of 50 participants.
We established contacts with each other for mutual support and to exchange
views on how best to remedy the oppressive civil and queer rights situation in
Iran.
What was most striking for me about the conversations and
exchanges of information at Voice Celebration was how many of us were operating
under false identities. Nobody dared speak out publicly or under their real
name due to fear of arrest, torture and even execution if we were discovered by
the authorities. In 2005 my work in the field of queer advocacy in Shiraz
attracted the attention of the Islamic authorities, which had begun to unravel
my secret identity. This I learned from a fellow Iranian LGBT released from
police custody, who told me the authorities were looking for "a gay
activist named Arsham." I was forced to flee Iran on March 5, 2005 due to
my fear of persecution and possible execution under Iran's harsh Islamic legal
code of Lavat, by which gays in Iran can be sentenced to death. I traveled by
train to Turkey, where I registered as a refugee at the Ankara office of the
United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR). I was one of the
fortunate few whose case was accepted by UNHCR. I lived in Turkey for three
months before my case was finally approved. I was invited to the Canadian
Embassy in Ankara two months later, and in April 2006 I arrived in Canada to
start a new life.
Now living in a safe country, I still consider myself first
and foremost an Iranian. I can never forget that I am in exile due to my own
sexual orientation. This situation is both a burden and a tremendous personal
responsibility for me. In May 2005, as I crossed the border out of Iran into
Turkey I promised myself, my nation and my people that I would one day return
to a free, open and democratic Iran. To that end, I promised that I would fully
devote my labors toward achieving for myself and my fellow citizens in Iran the
treasured dream and desire of so many millions around the globe, and which so
many in the West take as for granted as breathing: freedom. As the founder and
Executive Director of IRQR, I consider the work I am doing today to be an
investment in that freer and brighter tomorrow for all Iranians in my
now-troubled country.
For the record, I based the concept and mission of what
would eventually become IRQR on the 19th Century Underground Railroad in the
United States, i.e. the informal network of secret travel routes and safe
houses utilized by Southern black slaves in order to escape to freedom in the
Northern states and Canada, aided by abolitionists who were sympathetic to
their cause. Over the past few years, my primary duty and responsibility has
been providing aid and assistance, legal, financial or otherwise, to Iranian
queer asylum seekers who fled Iran due to their sexual orientation as I was
once forced to. I and others will continue this work under the auspices of the
Iranian Railroad for Queer Refugees (IRQR). We are now working to simplify our
structure to focus exclusively on supporting Iranian queers in fleeing Iran,
processing their asylum applications, preventing their deportation back to
Iran, and in maximizing their safety in transit. Most Iranian LGBT refugees are
scattered throughout Europe, primarily in the Netherlands, Sweden, Germany,
Switzerland, and Norway. Many also live in the United Kingdom, where the
British government has been extremely reluctant to grant permanent asylum
status to queer Iranian refugees. Not long ago two Iranian refugees living in
the UK, Hussein Nasseri and Israfil Shiri, committed suicide after receiving
deportation orders back to Iran where they faced imprisonment, torture, and
most likely violent deaths.
There are still many more queer refugees from Iran who have
not yet contacted us, and are in desperate need of our help. One of the primary
goals of IRQR's predecessor NGO, the Iranian Queer Organization (IRQO), was to
increase the global level of awareness to the abysmal Iranian queer human
rights situation, and the horrible persecution of LGBTS that occurs daily in
Iran. We at IRQR also hope to provide a steady stream of news and information
about homosexuality and transgendered individuals through the Internet into
Iran, and I believe we've had great success in doing that. After several years
of working with the Persian Gay and Lesbian Organization (PGLO) in Iran and
IRQO in Canada, I've attained a great deal of valuable and practical
experience.
Over time it
became clear to me that we needed a new organization, one with an organizational
structure dedicated solely to assisting queer Iranian refugees, i.e. to aid
them in fleeing Iran, to support them while they are still in transition
countries like Turkey, to assist them in finding their way through the
harrowing bureaucratic mazes they must traverse in order to gain asylum, and to
help them get settled into and learning to cope with their new lives in
gay-friendly democratic Western countries. Since being granted asylum myself in
Canada in 2006, I have been able and most fortunate to have made several
international trips to help queer refugees in building relationships with other
international organizations. I'm very happy I've been able to build such a
strong relationship with the UNHCR, which is now fully aware of the terrible
Iranian queer human rights situation and of IRQR's work in that cause.
On each of my trips overseas, I have been able to secure
international refugee protection status for an increasing number of Iranian
queer asylum seekers. I have spent many hours listening to the desperate,
tragic and heartbreaking stories of Iranian queers, all of which makes me very
concerned for their situations and futures. My dedication to these refugees is
fueled by my own experience as a queer Iranian exile in Turkey. It was the most
difficult experience of my life, to suddenly find myself in an unexpected
situation in a hostile country with no money and no personal safety or security
for over a year.
I will never forget the day in Turkey when I was walking
with Amir, another gay Iranian refugee who had been tortured and flogged in
Iran, when we were suddenly chased down the street by homophobic crowds. They
physically beat us with the clear intent to murder us. Nobody helped us. No
police came to our assistance. People just stood around watching as we were
beaten simply for being gay refugees in their country. That nightmarish
experience is seared into my memory. I will never forget it as long as I live.
It is why I've dedicated myself to speeding up the processing of other
queer refugees in gay-unfriendly countries, and to help LGBTs attain asylum and
freedom in tolerant third countries as soon as possible. Ten LGBTs were
murdered in Turkey in 2009. Many others have been beaten or threatened. Turkey
is a most hazardous respite for Iranian gays at best.
In his most historic and well-known speech from 1963, Dr.
Martin Luther King said, “I have a dream.” I have a dream, too. My dream is
that one day the rights of all queers will be recognized and respected
everywhere. That one day no one will be executed, tortured, arrested,
imprisoned, isolated or disowned by their families and communities merely for
the "crime" of being gay.
I dream of the day when my and other innocent Iranians'
sexual orientation will not be legal cause to deprive us of our fundamental
human rights. That is my dream and greatest wish, for myself and for all the
voiceless in Iran who cannot speak for themselves. And although they have not
chosen me as their voice, I have chosen to be theirs as they suffer in their
self-imposed voids of silence. They cannot speak their consciences in today's
Islamic Republic of Iran without fear of terrible reprisal from the
authorities, so I must speak out on their behalf. My own conscience dictates no
less. I declare this dream of mine for all. I will repeat it loudly and often,
and hope one day soon to achieve this dream for all of my fellow citizens in
the Persia that I love and once called home. I hope to do so again in Iran one
day soon. Iran is not merely where I'm from. It is who I am.