CIVICUS speaks with LGBTQI+ activist Rezvaneh Mohammadi about her experiences in Iran and in exile.
Rezvaneh is an Iranian human rights journalist, researcher and LGBTQI+ activist. After receiving threats and being jailed in Iran, she fled to Turkey and is now based in Belgium. Same-sex relations are illegal in Iran and LGBTQI+ people can face the death penalty.
How did you become an activist?
The key social event that defined my generation was the 2009 election and its aftermath, which coincided with my 17th birthday. I was moved to understanding what was happening as people were being shot and killed in the streets and student activists, journalists and others were being routinely arrested. Watching and reading the news introduced me to the concept of human rights.
Shortly afterwards, I discovered my sexual identity. At university, the unwanted exposure of my sexual identity led to my arbitrary removal from student organisations. The discrimination I experienced led me to read more, which led me to identify as a feminist and eventually become an activist for LGBTQI+ rights.
At that time, activism in this field mainly involved writing and spreading knowledge, either through personal Facebook pages and Telegram channels or by discussing sexual identity and orientation, history and laws with other LGBTQI+ people. It was important to understand how to break the law and stay safe. But most of us led a double life, pretending to be heterosexual.
Other, more dangerous, ways to fight back were to identify centres offering so-called ‘conversion therapy’ or to hand out leaflets on important dates. Only the bravest of us would do this.
Why did you leave Iran?
My activism was not limited to LGBTQI+ issues. I did research on the state crimes of the 1980s, which led to the identification of a mass grave from that era. Eventually, my activities in both fields led to my arrest by the Ministry of Intelligence.
I was placed in solitary confinement, subjected to harsh interrogation, insults and pressure while blindfolded in front of a wall to try to force a confession. Fortunately, I was able to resist the interrogation and avoid giving information that could put myself or others in danger.
When I was released on bail, I faced the prospect of five years in prison, and my sexual identity had already been exposed to my family and online. I decided to leave Iran for Turkey, to live the rest of my life in exile and to continue to develop my activism.
Have you found safety in exile?
To leave Iran, I crossed the border illegally because the Ministry of Intelligence had confiscated my passport and banned me from travelling. This is a common tactic used to repress activists and members of the opposition. Once in Turkey, I had no legal way of leaving, but as an Iranian activist I wasn’t safe. Given Turkey’s proximity to Iran and its mostly friendly relationship with the Iranian government, the presence of Iranian intelligence officers made me cautious. Many activists chose not to reveal their exact whereabouts, and I often received online threats. It was often difficult to determine whether these threats were serious or just random homophobic people targeting me, but they still created a constant sense of insecurity.
I’ve felt safer since I moved to Belgium, although there is homophobia here too. I’ve been harassed on the street a few times, but at least I know that if someone tries to harm me for being who I am, the law is on my side. I have remained cautious about how I communicate with friends and family in Iran, and extra careful about digital security to protect my work and privacy from Iran’s notorious cyber army. I am constantly struggling to create a space for myself and my community to express our needs and challenges, while doing my best to protect my family who are still in Iran.
Although I am physically safe in Belgium, as a refugee I still experience difficulties in settling down that challenge my mental safety, wellbeing and growth. Opportunities to work, learn or integrate can be quite scarce for someone in my situation. The journey to safety doesn’t end with arrival in a safe country. Governments and relevant agencies should do much more to support refugees, and human rights defenders in particular, to build a safe and dignified life in exile.
While I’ve been fortunate enough to be able to continue my work, I can’t help but notice that my path to safety, dignity and growth has slowed. I haven’t received the support I need to make this journey smoother and faster.
Have you noticed any positive change as a result of the Woman, Life, Freedom movement that started to protest in 2022?
Although the Women, Life, Freedom movement started four years after I left, I’m still connected to it in many ways. Many protesters were beaten or shot and needed medical attention, and people like me in exile were able to connect them with willing helpers.
Based on my research and numerous interviews, I can say that the situation with the hijab has changed significantly. Women are now defying the compulsory hijab and patriarchy more boldly than ever before. The morality police have recently returned to the streets and the state has resumed its targeting of women and LGBTQI+ people. But women continue to resist. Despite intense repression, a significant number of people refuse to wear the hijab and reject the standards of appearance that existed before Mahsa Amini’s death. I cannot hide my admiration for their courage. They resist despite the risks of arrest, trials, beatings and the confiscation of their cars. The desire for change remains, and the election of Masoud Pezeshkian as the new president won’t change this.
How can the international community support LGBTQI+ rights in Iran?
The first step should be to uphold the principle that LGBTQI+ rights are human rights and recognise serious violations of LGBTQI+ rights in Iran as unacceptable and non-negotiable.
A former foreign minister whose team will be back in power following the recent election once said the Iranian government didn’t punish people for what they did at home but only for what they did in the street. This was untrue: we have documented several cases of authorities raiding people’s homes and private parties and arresting participants, including people at LGBTQI+ parties.
Human rights organisations and international mechanisms should be bolder in raising these issues. Unfortunately, many Iranian human rights organisations have withdrawn from this fight, leaving LGBTQI+ organisations – which are also not exempt from mistakes – alone. As a result, international human rights mechanisms have not paid sufficient attention to the violation of LGBTQI+ rights in Iran.
Violations are not isolated but systematic. Same-sex relations are punishable by flogging or the death penalty and the Iranian Broadcasting Organisation is mandated by the Hijab and Chastity Bill to produce hate speech against LGBTQI+ people.
There is an ongoing pattern of human rights abuses against LGBTQI+ people in Iran. LGBTQI+ people in Iran deserve support and protection. We shouldn’t have to wait for another tragedy to draw attention to these violations. The focus should be on stopping and preventing these abuses, rather than waiting for dramatic news events to prompt action.
Civic space in Iran is rated ‘closed’ by the CIVICUS Monitor.
Follow @rezvanehmh70 on Instagram.
