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Christian converts granted belated Christmas break from prison

Christian converts granted belated Christmas break from prison

Left to right: Milad Goodarzi, Amin Khaki, and Alireza Nourmohammadi.

Three Christian converts serving three-year sentences for “engaging in propaganda that educates in a deviant way contrary to the holy religion of Islam” have been given 10 days’ leave from prison after enquiring why they weren’t included in the publicised mass furlough of Christian prisoners over Christmas.

Amin Khaki, Milad Goodarzi and Alireza Nourmohammadi were released from Karaj’s Central Prison yesterday on bail of 150 million tomans each (around $5,500), having been encouraged to apply for leave by some fellow prisoners who had heard about the directive.

In announcing a Christmas furlough for all “Christian” prisoners – meaning, in the parlance of the Islamic Republic, Iranians of Assyrian and Armenian descent – the head of the judiciary, Gholam Hossein Mohseni Ejei, had stipulated that prisoners serving sentences on “security”-related charges or of over five years would not be considered.  

And given that all Persian-speaking Christians currently incarcerated in Iranian prisons, including Amin, Milad and Alireza, were convicted by Revolutionary Courts – meaning their charges were de facto “security”-related – and that most are serving sentences of over five years, it had seemed extremely unlikely that any would be included.

But while Article18’s advocacy director, Mansour Borji, said he was “glad to see a judge recognise the three men as Christians” – rather than, for example, members of the “dangerous ‘Zionist’ Evangelical sect” – he noted that “this was only the decision of one judge, and can by no means be considered the view of the judiciary as a whole”.

Nevertheless, he said that it can at least be seen as a second positive development this New Year after the recent release of nine Christian converts – while their five-year sentences for membership of a house-church and propagation of the so-called “Evangelical ‘Zionist’ sect” are reviewed by another Revolutionary Court judge.

Christian converts cleared of any crime

Christian converts cleared of any crime

Left to right: Mohammad Ali (Davoud) Torabi, Mohammad Kayidgap, Esmaeil Narimanpour, and Alireza Varak-Shah, four of eight Christian converts cleared of any criminal offence.

Eight Christian converts have been cleared of any crime, with the presiding prosecutor stating that their change of religion was not a punishable offence according to the laws of Iran.

The ruling by the public prosecutor of the Civil and Revolutionary Court of Dezful comes just weeks after Iran’s Supreme Court ruled that nine other Christian converts serving five-year prison sentences should not have been convicted of “acting against national security”.

The Dezful ruling, dated 30 November, states that the eight Christians – Esmaeil Narimanpour, Alireza Varak-Shah, Mohammad Ali (Davoud) Torabi, Mohammad Kayidgap, Hojjat Lotfi Khalaf, Alireza Roshanaei Zadeh, Masoud Nabi, and Mohsen Saadati Zadeh – “merely converted to a different religion” and “didn’t carry out any propaganda against other groups”.

The prosecutor added that “apostasy” from Islam is something that can be punished under Islamic law (Sharia), “and in the hereafter”, but has “not been criminalised in the laws of Iran”, and therefore the men could not be charged.

Their lawyer, Iman Soleimani, tweeted a copy of the ruling, saying it offered a “glimmer of hope” amidst the “despair of continued arrests of activists and dissidents … imprisonment, torture, executions, inflation, trade union and workers’ protests”.

‘Apostasy’ in the Islamic Republic

The issue of “apostasy” has been debated since the founding of the Islamic Republic, with different ayatollahs pronouncing different rulings on the matter.

The Supreme Leader, Ali Khamenei, made clear that in his view the “crime” is punishable by death.

However, while several Christian converts have been sentenced to death for their “apostasy”, only once has this been carried out following a court’s decision – in the case of Rev Hossein Soodmand, who was hanged in 1990.

Fellow convert Rev Mehdi Dibaj was also sentenced to death in December 1993, after nine years in prison, but freed a month after the verdict following an international outcry, only to be found stabbed to death in June 1994. 

More recently, another Christian convert, Yousef Nadarkhani, was sentenced to death for his “apostasy” in 2010, but again this sentence was overturned after an international outcry. 

Yousef is now back in prison, this time serving a six-year prison sentence (reduced from 10 years) for “acting against national security”.

Such “security” charges have become much more common over the past decade, replacing charges of a more obvious religious nature, and therefore affording the Iranian authorities room to be able to make claims such as that “no-one is imprisoned in Iran because of their beliefs”.

However, the lack of an official agreed position on “apostasy” continues to lead to inconsistent rulings in the courts, such as in this latest case in Dezful, where an individual prosecutor has chosen leniency.

The fear is that, until an official line is drawn, the next judge may take a different view.

Christians’ belongings held unlawfully, says lawyer

Christians’ belongings held unlawfully, says lawyer

Left to right: Somayeh (Sonya) Sadegh, Mina Khajavi, and Joseph Shahbazian.

The lawyer of five Christians out on bail for more than a year has complained his clients’ confiscated belongings have still not been returned to them, despite the law mandating they should be returned at the “earliest possible opportunity”.

The Christians – Joseph Shahbazian, who is an Iranian-Armenian, and Christian converts Mina Khajavi, Somayeh (Sonya) Sadegh, Salar Eshraghi Moghadam, and Farhad Khazaee – were among dozens arrested in the summer of 2020 and are now facing charges including “attracting Muslims to house-churches” and “weakening faith in Muslim clerics”.

But although they were freed on bail more than a year ago, their confiscated items have still not been returned to them, despite repeated requests, says lawyer Iman Soleimani.

Mr Soleimani said he went to the court again on Saturday, 18 December, to once more request the return of the items, but was not even permitted to enter the building and told the judge was “too busy”.

The lawyer added that the judge had previously sent two letters asking Ministry of Intelligence officials to return the belongings, but that these had had no effect.

Mr Soleimani said some of the confiscated items do not even belong to the Christians but to their family members.

This is the second time Mr Soleimani has complained of the unlawful confiscation of Christian clients’ property, and just last month the confiscated belongings of four Christians converts from the western city of Dezful were finally returned after a six-month wait.

Iran’s tightening grip on religious minorities

Iran’s tightening grip on religious minorities

This article was written by Marjan Keypour Greenblatt, founder and director of the Alliance for Rights of all Minorities (ARAM). It was first published on the Middle East Institute website on 7 December, under the headline “A stranger among us: Iran’s tightening grip on religious minorities”, and is reproduced here with kind permission. 


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For thousands of years, Iran has stood out as a culture that prized diversity and a place where religious minorities have flourished as independent communities. The Islamic Republic now seeks to change that, however, by implanting its own leaders inside different faith groups to protect and advance its interests. This approach could doom these ancient minorities to a future that includes altered traditions and even the risk of disappearing from Iran altogether.

The Islamic Republic formally banned conversion from Islam decades ago. This powerful tool prevented minority communities from growing beyond their birthrates. But today Iran takes a more active role in the affairs of religious minorities, imposing inconsistent regulations, draining their assets, and anointing successors to weaken the traditional leadership and gain control of these populations. These influencers typically have been given incentives such as funds, access to power, safety, and other privileges in exchange for collaborating with the Iranian government.

This appears to be part of a broader plan to infiltrate these communities so that the Islamic Republic’s leadership can expand its influence and exercise greater control over them. This brand of religious intolerance is a stark departure from traditional Persian cultural practices. Before the 1979 Islamic Revolution, the Pahlavi dynasty, harkening back to the time of Cyrus the Great, maintained a policy of allowing religious minorities to flourish. Even though there were religious prejudices born out of ignorance, under the law minorities were allowed to worship freely, practice their rituals, and live as full citizens. After the fall of the shah, however, many minority leaders accepted the new reality and expressed their loyalty to the Islamic regime. This included acceptance of second-class citizenship for the country’s Christians, Jews, and Zoroastrians, as outlined in the new Iranian Constitution. These religious leaders did so to ensure some freedom and security for their communities, with the hope of preserving their religious and cultural traditions as much as possible. Maintaining a balancing act between their religious community and the theocracy, however difficult, allowed this generation of religious leaders to retain their traditions and beliefs.

The Islamic Republic also deploys language to influence and control religious minorities. For example, Christians are required to perform services only in ancient languages such as Assyrian and Armenian, but not in Persian, which the regime fears would facilitate conversions. And while Jews are allowed to pray in Hebrew, they are forbidden from teaching the spoken language for fear of so-called Zionists gaining influence inside Iran. By enforcing such haphazard regulations, the Iranian government monitors, isolates, and oppresses religious minorities, including Sufis, Sunnis, Zoroastrians, Christians, and Jews. The following provides some historical background and analysis of current discriminatory measures against these five groups.

Nematollahi Gonabadi Sufis

The Nematollahi Gonabadi dervishes represent a popular, centuries-old Sufi offshoot of Shi’a Islam and are characterised by their selfless “service and love of all human beings.”

Hamid Gharagozloo, a representative of the International Organisation to Protect Human Rights, explained that the 90-year-old dervish leader (or “Ghotb”), Dr. Noor Ali Tabandeh, stood for ideals that seemed contrary to the Iranian government. “To him nothing was more holy and important than the life of a person,” said Gharagozloo. Seeing the popular leader as a threat, officials placed him under house arrest for nearly two years and forced him to choose a successor from a list of candidates cleared by Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei. While under house arrest, Dr. Tabandeh complained about poisoned food; after his death, dervish leaders claimed to find evidence of foul play.

Gharagozloo explained that the list of successors included Dr. Tabandeh’s second nephew, Reza Tabandeh. Young and foreign-educated, he had superficial credentials and claimed the revered title of “Ghotb,” but like the other candidates, he would likely have put the government’s interests before the well-being of the community. To minimise the potential damage to the order, Dr. Tabandeh reluctantly agreed to the oldest person on the list, Alireza Jazbi. Unfortunately, the results under Jazbi have been troubling, as the Gonabadis are experiencing radical changes to their long-standing traditions. Gharagozloo explained that previously anyone could become a dervish without any preconditions, but new rules of conversion require the individual to first study Islam with a marja taghlid— a high-ranking Shi’a clergy member formally affiliated with the Islamic Republic. This requirement is expected to drastically reduce the size of the community, which has been extremely popular among converts. In the past 40 years since the Islamic Revolution, the number of adherents has grown significantly and some estimates suggest it is now in the millions. Moreover, the community fears that the “study” phase with regime-approved clergy will provide an opportunity to inculcate the Islamic Revolution’s values while distorting the community’s traditional ones.

Sunnis

The Islamic Republic has long imposed repressive measures against Sunnis that have escalated from restrictive to violent. According to Ebrahim Ahrari Khalaf, host of Cheshmandaz program on Kalameh TV and himself a Sunni Muslim, “There is a direct influence of the regime among the Sunnis.” Since the Islamic Revolution, the government has utilised various measures to control and monitor the Sunni population, which is sizeable, estimated at up to 10 million people in Iran. The Office of the Supreme Leader controls every aspect of Sunni life, including management of schools, publication of books, affairs of the mosque, activities of the clergy, and even the weekly sermons delivered by Sunni imams. Every Friday prayer or sermon must be cleared by the Office of the Supreme Leader and contain required talking points prepared by the government.

For decades the regime has also tried to centralise the worship of the Sunni population. Its primary strategy was to establish religious institutions under the auspices of Qom, the seat of Shi’a Islam in the country. Following conflicts with the Kurds, the regime established the Grand Islamic Center in Sanandaj to gradually assume oversight over all aspects of religious life in predominantly Sunni regions such as Kurdistan, Western Azerbaijan, and Kermanshah. During Mahmoud Ahmadinejad’s presidency, the regime initiated the “Regulation of Sunni Schools of Iran,” which took control of Sunni educational institutions against their wishes. It mandated special approval for every Sunni imam, usurping the community’s ability to choose its own religious clergy and spiritual leadership. These policies gradually centralised oversight of all clergy by creating an employment and reporting system so that their activities would be controlled.

As part of this strategy, Imam Molavi Makhdouni in Khorasan was replaced by Molavi Mousa Karam Pour by the Ministry of Intelligence in 1990. Karam Pour was initially installed to create division among Sunnis in Mashhad, but eventually his capacity to unify the region’s Sunnis made him a threat to the regime. As such, in 1994, Masjed Feiz, his mosque, was attacked with 50 bulldozers and cranes and levelled to the ground. Karam Pour was subsequently assassinated. In Taibad region, Imam Molavi Ebrahim Seifi Zadeh was arrested in 1991 and lashed on charges of violating national security and blasphemy. He was forced into exile in Afghanistan and then assassinated two years ago. In 2010, Sheikh Ghoreishi, the Sunni leader in Talesh region, was arrested, exiled, and replaced by Vaha Bina, who took over the educational programs for Sunnis. 

Zoroastrians

In 2020, the indigenous Zoroastrian community was rocked by the news of the murder of their leader Arash Kasravi, along with his companions. The Zoroastrians advocated for a thorough investigation and arrest of the perpetrator, but the local prosecutor declared that the suspect had committed suicide, leaving no legal recourse for the family. The new “official” community leader, Ardeshir Khorshidian, strictly follows the ideology of the regime. He even promotes the so-called Twelfth Imam, the hidden prophet known as the Mahdi, despite the fact that this is a tenet of Shi’a Islam and has nothing to do with the Zoroastrian faith.

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Christians

The regime’s malign influence on Iran’s Christian leadership is not sufficiently well known among the international community. In 2014, Victor Bet Tamraz, the long-time Iranian-Assyrian pastor of the Pentecostal Church of Shahrara in Tehran, was violently deposed from his pulpit. He endured solitary confinement for 65 days and faced a 10-year prison sentence for exercising his religious leadership. The church was shut down and the congregation was stripped of its sanctuary and clergy.

But the state’s grip on the religious leadership of minorities persists among surviving churches. “We know there’s always a government agent or dual agent who monitors the speeches, sermons, and activities of the church to make sure we’re not speaking out against the government and not expressing negative sentiments about the regime,” said Juliana Taimourazy, 2021 Nobel Peace Prize nominee and the president of the Iraqi Christian Relief Council, who left Iran because of the difficulties and discrimination she faced as a practicing Christian.

The millennia-old Christian Assyrian community in Iran had around 90,000 members before the Islamic Revolution. However, in its aftermath, the pressures on the community, primarily driven by their second-class citizenship and the hostile environment, prompted many to leave the country and join the diaspora, reducing its numbers to less than 7,000 people. “This mass exodus speaks for itself,” Taimourazy said. “This is a form of religious genocide,” where no blood is shed but a civilisation is gradually eliminated because its people are “oppressed, mocked, and harassed for their faith.” Those who stayed behind were the aged and infirm, along with a small number of younger Christians who had never seen their community enjoy any measure of freedom and thus lack the vision to restore its rights.

The Assyrian population is not the only Christian group oppressed by the regime either. Other communities are forced to abide by restrictions such as bans on worshiping in Persian and proselytising or engaging in external conversations about their faith, as well as being forced to include non-Christians in their celebrations.

Mansour Borji, the advocacy director of the religious rights organisation Article18, indicated that on several occasions community-elected Christian leaders were not allowed to serve their duties and had to step down in favour of government-appointed figures. Borji also explained a surprising nuance in the oppression of religious minorities: Despite the mass exodus of Christians, the “Iranian regime would prefer to have some presence of Christians in Iran, provided that they would comply with their demands and perpetuate the state propaganda that they have tolerance toward other faiths.”

To position itself as maintaining the country’s longstanding traditions of religious tolerance, the Islamic Republic has allowed faith groups to have limited representation in the Iranian parliament, but their powers are severely constrained. Most notoriously, Yonathan Betkolia, Iran’s Assyrian Christian MP, projects an image of tolerance and pluralism in Iran; defends its foreign ambitions; and criticises everything from countries like the US and Israel to MPs in the Netherlands and religious groups in Australia. Leaders like Betkolia play a role on the global stage by falsely attesting to the freedom of religion in Iran, and their domestic function is to enforce the restrictions imposed by the Islamic Republic. The most visible example is their participation in the unpopular Iranian elections, which are widely boycotted by citizens of all religions. In maintaining the regime’s status quo, Borji explains that “any [Christian leader] who crosses this line would fall out of favour and soon be banished.”

Jews

The tactic of inserting leaders into communities also has been used by the Islamic Republic to infiltrate the Jewish community. Rabbi Yehuda Gerami, a young and charismatic individual ordained at Ner Israel Rabbinical College, rose through the ranks of Jewish clergy in Iran and has been paraded abroad as Iran’s “chief rabbi.” His recent trip to the US was pre-approved by the Ministry of Guidance and was doubtless used to generate intelligence for the Iranian government.

Rabbi Gerami seems genuinely concerned with the success and safety of his community; however, he was ordained in the Ashkenazi tradition of Chabad, with a culture and practices that differ from Iranian Jews’ Mizrahi traditions that date back 3,000 years to ancient Babylonia. Rabbi Gerami is steering the next generation of Iranian Jews away from these roots. This type of tension between an outside rabbi penetrating native religious traditions is not unique to Iran; it has been seen in other countries in recent years as well. For example, Rabbi Gerami is introducing wig wearing among observant Jewish women, a common tradition among Orthodox women in the West, but one that was never part of the Iranian Jewish practice.

Abroad, Rabbi Gerami’s stances have raised eyebrows and prompted alarm among Jews across the spectrum. Not only has he supported the regime with statements such as his expression of sympathy after Qassem Soleimani’s assassination, he has refused to call out its antisemitic rhetoric and Holocaust denialism.

As is the case with all activities coordinated by the Iranian Ministry of Guidance, Rabbi Gerami’s movements abroad are carefully planned and intended to deliver a message. In a two-month trip in October and November, he visited areas with large Jewish populations, such as New York, Los Angeles, and the Greater DC area. It should be recognised that Gerami’s affiliation with Chabad gives him access to an international network of Jewish leaders and communities known for their social services and charitable giving. His trip has been covered by the American Jewish press, with one fringe Orthodox magazine praising “religious freedom” and the “thriving Jewish community” in Iran — proof that Rabbi Gerami has been successful in expanding his international network and delivering the Ministry of Guidance’s message.

This should also serve as a reminder that American elected officials and other policymakers must exercise deep skepticism when dealing with Iranian religious dignitaries. The facts on the ground in Iran are not necessarily as they are presented by clergy of different faiths who visit the US While the separation of church and state is a core Western value, this is far from the case in the Islamic Republic.

Outlook

Most countries appropriately view religious freedom as a basic human right — and that means allowing people to worship as they choose, enabling communities to select their own leaders, and allowing faith groups to preserve their traditions. The Islamic Republic refuses to grant its own religious minorities this basic freedom. This is telling and a clear reminder that, despite its propaganda, the government in Tehran is committed to nothing more than preserving its own power and is more than willing to sacrifice the rights and freedoms of its citizens to do so.

What is Christmas really like for Christians in Iran?

What is Christmas really like for Christians in Iran?

Every year at Christmas, senior regime figures step forward to offer their well-wishes to their “Christian compatriots” on the occasion of the birth of Jesus.

Meanwhile, photos are shared on social media of Iranians buying Christmas trees from stores clad in the red and white of Santa Claus. 

The message in both cases is clear: Iran is a land of tolerance, where Christians are free to practise their faith and to worship in the hundreds of churches that they have, as is their constitutional right.

But dig beneath the surface, and the reality for Christians at Christmas-time – and at any other time of the year – is markedly different.

Perhaps the most well-known illustration of this at Christmas-time can be found in the story of the arrest of Pastor Victor Bet-Tamraz.

It was 26 December 2014, and Pastor Victor, who as an ethnic Assyrian is one of Iran’s purportedly “recognised” Christians, was celebrating Christmas at his home with his family, and a few converts to Christianity, when there was a knock at the door.

The scene that followed will sound very familiar to any Iran-watcher: standing at the door were a dozen plainclothes intelligence agents, who barged into the pastor’s home, searched those present, separated men from women, confiscated personal belongings, and declared that they were participating in an “unlawful and unauthorised gathering”.

The officers proceeded to force all those present to fill out forms boasting the insignia of the Ministry of Intelligence, and filmed them individually as they explained why they had gathered.

After several hours of filming and interrogation, Pastor Victor was arrested, alongside two of the converts, Amin Afshar-Naderi and Kavian Fallah-Mohammadi, and taken away to Tehran’s Evin Prison.

The three men, and a fourth convert, Hadi Asgari, were later sentenced to 10 years in prison for “acting against national security by organising and conducting house-churches”. Amin was given an additional five-year sentence for “insulting the sacred” – or, to put it more simply, “blasphemy”.

Victor’s wife, Shamiram, was also sentenced to five years in prison for her own “action against national security”.

Left to right: Victor Bet-Tamraz, his wife Shamiram, Kavian Fallah-Mohammadi, Amin Afshar-Naderi, and Hadi Asgari.

After years of appeal hearings scheduled only to be postponed, Victor’s wife was finally summoned in August 2020 to begin her sentence. 

The couple fled

The three converts had already left Iran.

A similar story had unfolded two Christmases before, in 2012, when another member of Iran’s “recognised” Christians, retired ethnic Armenian pastor Vruir Avanessian, was arrested alongside several converts as they celebrated together.

The pastor was later sentenced to three and half years in prison for “acting against national security” through “propaganda against the holy regime of the Islamic Republic of Iran”, while one of the converts, Mostafa Bordbar, was given a 10-year sentence for “gathering with intent to commit crimes against Iranian national security”.

At Christmas 2011, another pastor, Farhad Sabokrooh, was arrested alongside his wife and two other church members, and all later sentenced to a year in prison – sentences they served, before the pastor and his wife also left Iran after being threatened with execution for “apostasy”.

Farhad Sabokrooh and his wife, Shahnaz.

Years later, the pastor said during an interview in 2019 that his wife still had nightmares about her time in prison.

A continuing trend

The pattern of arrests at Christmas has been true for as long as Article18 has been in existence.

Our first such report came at Christmas 2010, when dozens of Christians were arrested across Iran, a fact confirmed by the governor of Tehran at the time, who accused those arrested of belonging to a “corrupt and deviant” wing of “evangelical Christianity”.

An even larger number of Christians were arrested in the run-up to Christmas 2018 – as many as 114 Christians from 10 different cities, in just one week, in what was referred to as an “unprecedented” wave of arrests.

So why the focus on Christmas?

Last year, Mary Mohammadi, who spent six months in prison for her membership of a house-church, told Article18 she believed there were two primary reasons: “Firstly to increase fear and act as a deterrent for those present… Secondly, the news of the arrests may deter other Christians from celebrating.” 

Christmas is viewed as “a good time to repress those who are exploring Christianity”, says Mary Mohammadi.

“At Christmas, Christian celebrations and services are different, more attractive and more populated than they are during the rest of the year,” she added. “What better time for the Iranian security forces to be able to trap multiple Christians in one operation, rather than having to bother to identify each one! 

“Some Christians may also invite their friends, so at Christmas-time, when Christians are celebrating, and gatherings are more crowded, it is a good time to repress those who are exploring Christianity.”

‘Reaction to an anti-Western government’

Parallel to the rash of arrests, there is also increased interest in the Christmas season among the wider Iranian population, something Paris-based sociologist Saeed Paivandi told Article18 last year was “a reaction to an anti-Western and Islamist government, in the same way as there is a growing tendency towards Christianity as the antithesis of Islamism”.

He added that the regime’s attempts to defend Iran against what it has labelled the “cultural invasion of the West” have only increased the attraction, both of the West and of Christianity, among a disillusioned public.

“All the evidence shows that the pervasive cultural propaganda war of the past decades has not yielded the desired results,” he said, “and that some people actually behave in this way to oppose the regime, or at least to push back against its propaganda.”

Saeed Paivandi (Photo: Twitter @RFI_Fa)

Mr Paivandi added that the regime’s “real concern” is the potential for interest in Christmas and other elements of Western culture to “lead people towards Christianity – especially the youth”.

“The government seems to be more afraid of the religious significance and consequences of these behaviours than of fearing a celebration that belongs to other countries,” he said. “Negative reactions to the celebration of Christmas, or open repression of Christian converts, are signs of this fear. 

“While in the textbooks there is a lot of talk about the conversion of this or that Western Christian to Islam, or the state media mentions the conversions to Islam of some young people in Europe, now the Islamic Republic is being forced to confront the reality that many people are leaving Islam.”

Meanwhile, despite the persecution of Christians at Christmas-time, and throughout the year, Christianity, remarkably, is still on the rise in Iran.

And perhaps most distressingly, from the regime’s perspective, the vast majority of Christians in Iran today do not belong to the tolerated ethnic minorities, but are converts from at least nominally Muslim backgrounds.

As long as this trend continues, Christians can expect little let-up from the regime, at Christmas or any other time of year, regardless of any public messages of goodwill or photographs of smiley Iranians posing in front of Christmas trees.

Convert: ‘If you care about human rights, why am I in prison?’

Convert: ‘If you care about human rights, why am I in prison?’

A convert serving a six-year prison sentence for leading a house-church has queried how the head of Iran’s judiciary can speak about “defending human rights” while people like him are in prison only for their beliefs.

In a voice message from prison, Saheb Fadaie quotes the recent comments of Gholam Hossein Mohseni Ejei, who said last month: “Let us defend human rights, hand in hand.”

Saheb responds: “Meanwhile, I am in prison because of my faith in Jesus Christ, and the Islamic Republic of Iran has deprived me of my freedom and my right to follow my heart in choosing my beliefs.”

He adds: “Mr Ejei speaks of ‘human rights’. If I am a human being, I should have the right to choose my beliefs. I have my own thoughts, and my heart tells me that Jesus Christ is the way to salvation.

“Why then, because of making this choice, have I been sentenced to six years in prison, and spent the past four years in prison – four years that may be quick enough to say, but in reality have been four years in which I have been separated from my family, when I have been away from my wife and away from my child – my daughter, who in these four years has most felt the need for me to be by her side.

“During these four years, I have not been with my daughter on any of her birthdays, and despite what Mr Ejei said, I think that this is an example of a gross violation of human rights in the Islamic Republic of Iran.

“And of course, I’m not alone. As many may know, there are too many of us in Iranian prisons. And I think that Mr Ejei, who claims that human rights and the rights of a human being should not be ignored, should think of a solution for our human rights, so that the problem we Christians have will be solved once and for all.”

Saheb was one of three convert prisoners to write an open letter in October, calling for Persian-speaking Christians to be given a place to worship.

This letter and the video messages from the two other prisoners, Babak Hosseinzadeh and Behnam Akhlaghi, formed the basis of Article18’s subsequent campaign for all Christians in Iran to be given a #place2worship.

Saheb details in his video message how the chief prosecutor of Tehran visited him in September and ordered a reduction in his sentence or release on an electronic tag, only to later overrule himself

“All this shows the disregard for human rights in Iran,” he says, before the call is interrupted by an automated message: “This call is being made from a prison. The caller is a prisoner.”

What does Supreme Court ruling mean for Iran’s Christian prisoners of conscience?

What does Supreme Court ruling mean for Iran’s Christian prisoners of conscience?

Article18 asks human rights lawyer Hossein Ahmadiniaz about the practical implications for Iran’s Christian prisoners of conscience of the recent Supreme Court ruling, which found that house-church activities and the promotion of Christianity did not constitute “actions against national security”.


Clockwise from top-left: Shahrooz Eslamdoust, Mehdi Khatibi, Babak Hosseinzadeh, Hossein Kadivar, Mohammad Vafadar, Abdolreza (Matthias) Ali-Haghnejad, Behnam Akhlaghi, Khalil Dehghanpour, Kamal Naamanian

In practice, what will be the impact of the Supreme Court ruling for the nine converts involved, who are currently serving five-year sentences? Will they be released?

HA: “In the first place, the lawyer of these Christian converts, according to Article 474 of the Code of Criminal Procedure, has taken their case to the Supreme Court, and this court has ruled that there should be a retrial.

“According to Article 478, after this verdict, the initial sentence is rendered null and void, and the case must be examined again from the beginning, while taking into account the Supreme Court ruling, including the clarification that attending a house-church is not a crime.

“Now the case is sent to a different branch of the Revolutionary Court [than the one which gave the original verdict], under a different judge. For example, if Branch 28 issued this verdict, then Branch 20 may review the case this time.

“If this new branch rejects the ruling of the Supreme Court and upholds the initial Revolutionary Court decision, the ruling can be appealed [by the defendants]. If the appeal court also upholds their conviction, then the case can be sent back to the same branch of the Supreme Court which issued this ruling, and if this branch still insists on its ruling, the case will be referred to the General Assembly of the Supreme Court, which consists of all heads of the 50 or so branches of the Supreme Court, including high-ranking judicial officials, such as the Attorney General.

“And the ruling of this body will either be a final verdict only in this case, or can set a precedent to be applied to all similar cases if the composition of the General Assembly includes representatives from every rank of the Supreme Court.”

Can these nine converts now apply for at least a temporary release?

HA: “Yes. The lawyers of these Christian converts, or even they themselves, can now ask to be released on bail, and if the prison rejects their requests, their continued detention would be illegal.”

The Supreme Court has repeatedly rejected the requests of converts. So why the change?

HA: “It is a fact that we have always made clear in our work that Christian converts are innocent, and that what they do in their church or homes is sacred and between them and God, and that their actions are not mentioned anywhere in the law as a crime.

“Fortunately, this time the case was sent to an independent court, whose decision was not influenced by the security and intelligence agencies. According to the law, Christian converts are innocent, and every time a court rules against them, it is a violation of their rights.

“Under any fair and legal ruling, Christians should always be found to have acted entirely within the law. The law does not anywhere say that attending a house-church or worshipping in a group is a crime. 

“Christians do not act against national security, neither do they have any intention to act against national security.

“The basic Christian principle is respect for others, and in their groups they only perform their sacred rituals, such as prayer.”

You represented a Christian prisoner of conscience, Nasser Navard Gol-Tapeh. What effect will this ruling have on the situation of imprisoned Christians like him?

HA: “Certainly, Christian prisoners like Mr Gol-Tapeh, citing the verdict of Branch 28 of the Supreme Court, can demand a retrial and say that ‘our situation is just like that of these nine Christian converts’, and that attending a house-church is not a crime.”

‘Our daughter still visibly suffers from the impact of my arrest’

‘Our daughter still visibly suffers from the impact of my arrest’

It was Marjan and Mani’s eight-year-old daughter, Dina, who opened the door when their home was raided by intelligence agents in November 2015, an event that changed all their lives forever. 

The family fled the country just four months later, and now, like so many other Iranian Christian families, live in Turkey, where they await resettlement to a safe country.

And beyond the challenges and uncertainties of life as asylum-seekers in a foreign land, the traumatic after-effects of that raid continue for each family member, and especially the two girls.

“My youngest child [Parna] is now eight years old, but because of her fears related to my arrest that day, she still visibly suffers from the impact of those events,” Mani says.

Marjan adds: “Ten days after my husband’s arrest, she missed her father and I’d told her that he was in hospital. For three days she had a severe fever and every time I wanted to go out she would say: ‘Mum, you want to go to the hospital like Daddy and never come back!’”

Meanwhile, the couple’s elder daughter, Dina, was so distressed that she had to be taken out of school.

“Since I had paid the school fees for that term, I didn’t take her immediately out of school,” Marjan says, “but because of her deteriorating mental health she wasnot able to finish the school year.”

And as with so many others, it is clear the only reason for Mani’s arrest, detention – he was held for 13 days, including 12 in solitary confinement – and subsequent one-year prison sentence was that he and Marjan had become Christians and joined a house-church.

The official charges against him were: “actions against the security of the regime, propaganda against the regime, and smuggling illegal goods”. 

So what were the illegal goods? 

“They had confiscated Bibles and many other Christian books from our home, so they saw me as a ‘smuggler’, belonging to ‘Evangelical Christianity’,” Mani explains, “and the Bibles were the illegal goods.”

And once more, as with so many others, it was clear from the outset that the intelligence agents only had one thing in mind: to pressure Mani and Marjan to either leave Christianity, or Iran.

“Once the interrogator told us: ‘You either have to revert to Islam or you don’t have the right to live in Iran’,” says Marjan, who was also interrogated and threatened after her husband’s release.

“I’m sure that they were keeping us under surveillance and putting pressure on us so we would leave Iran.”

Their final decision to leave came after their pastor, who had also been arrested and spent more than two months in solitary confinement, told them they could no longer continue to serve in house-churches.

“He told us that he couldn’t tell anyone to leave the country or to stay,” Marjan recalls, “but that we couldn’t continue to serve in house-churches in Iran. He said that if we visited other Christians, we could get into more trouble and maybe end up back in jail, and that we’d also be putting others in danger.”

And so, on 3 March 2016, Marjan, Mani and their daughters fled Iran, and now live in central Turkey.

But Mani says: “We are not here out of choice. We are far from our family and country. During our first days in Turkey, it was like we were deaf and dumb; we didn’t even know one word of Turkish. We also didn’t have much money.

“We don’t have a fixed job. Any employer can easily sack us. The working hours in this country are very long. The salaries are very low, and sometimes they don’t even pay us and our work is wasted, and we can’t complain to anyone.”

Marjan adds: “Everybody at my elder daughter’s school knows she is a Christian. The teacher deliberately denigrates Christianity, for example saying that Christians worship three Gods! All the other children look at my daughter with disdain. ‘I have to keep my head down,’ my daughter says. This kind of treatment is devastating for her.”

Meanwhile, Marjan says that while the UN’s asylum agency in Turkey, ASAM, has promised psychotherapy sessions for the girls, “that was two years ago, and they haven’t done anything”.


You can read Marjan and Mani’s full Witness Statement here.

Marjan and Mani

Marjan and Mani

For a summary of Marjan and Mani’s story, you can read our feature article here.


Background

Mani

1. My name is Mohsen (Mani) Aliabady Ravari, and I was born in 1978 in Tehran. My wife Manizheh (Marjan) Bagheri was born in 1983 in Hamedan. We had a film rental shop, and one of our regular customers, Mohammad Reza (known as Sepehr), who now lives in the United States, spoke with us about Christianity. After six months of studying the Bible and the Quran at the same time, in June 2011 we decided to convert to Christianity; our daughter was three years old at that time.

2. Soon we found a house-church and joined it. We regularly attended meetings and evangelised. After two years our pastor officially invited us to serve in the house-church. I was a guitar player and led worship. In Kamalabad [near Karaj], in the garden of other Christian believers, on 16 August 2013 my wife and I, and several other Christians, were baptised.

Arrest

3. On Tuesday 10 November 2015, at 11pm, somebody rang our doorbell. My little girl, Dina, opened the door. I hurried to the door and saw from their appearance that the five people standing there were agents of the Ministry of Intelligence (MOIS). I asked them to show me their warrant. They showed it to me, but I didn’t fully absorb what I saw because I was in a state of shock. I only remember seeing mine and Marjan’s names, as well as the letterhead of the arrest warrant, from the Alborz Prosecutor’s Office.

4. The five officers entered, while insulting us, making my older daughter, who was eight years old, and my three-year-old daughter cry and cling firmly to their mother. They handcuffed me and told us to sit on the sofa. They didn’t even let us look at each other. Two of the officers had guns fastened to their hips, and several times they showed them to us. Their behaviour increased our children’s fear. My youngest child [Parna] is now eight years old, but because of her fears related to my arrest that day, she still visibly suffers from the impact of those events.

5. They searched our entire home, as well as our storeroom, and even my car. The search took about two hours, and they were trying to do it quietly so that the neighbours weren’t aware. They confiscated our laptop, tablet, mobile phones, contact book, a cross which hung on the wall, books, family photos, CDs and DVDs, USB sticks and external hard drives, birth certificates, national ID cards, passports and bank cards. From our storeroom they took a Bible, other Christian books, the hard drive of my computer, in which, because I was studying theology, I had saved tutorial videos and essays I had written. Even my children’s hard drive, with no information on it at all, was confiscated. They also wanted to confiscate my guitar. I explained that I was a musician, and as soon as they saw a wardrobe full of music books and notes, they didn’t take my guitar. Because I was in charge of the church library, the agents were able to fill their Peugeot Pride with books. They listed all the things they took away and asked me to sign it. 

6. I don’t know if the agent was just acting, or being serious, but through his walkie-talkie he said to another person: “Seyyed, this family has a small child. Shall we arrest the wife?” From what happened next, it seemed like Seyyed had replied: “Don’t arrest her, but get her to sign something promising she won’t leave town, so that we can summon her to court at any time.” So Marjan signed this document, but she asked how she was supposed to pay for her living expenses, since they had taken away my bank cards. They allowed me to take back one of my cards, and I gave her the card with the highest amount on it.

7. My wife knew that when they arrested someone, they left their families without any information, so she asked the agents: “Where are you taking my husband? Where should I go if you don’t contact us?” One of the agents, seeing my wife’s insistence on finding my place of detention, said: “Go to Fardis Prosecutor’s Office.” The back seat and the boot were full of books, so two officers sat in the front of the Peugeot Pride. The two other agents sat in the front of a Citroen Xantia and one agent sat in the back next to me. One of the agents had a blindfold in the pocket of his trousers and put it over my eyes. Then his colleague put on an Islamic mourning chant and turned up the volume; I suspect he either wanted to annoy me or prevent me from hearing their conversation.

Marjan

8. It was about 1.30am when my husband was arrested and taken away. Later that day, I drove my children to my sister’s home. With my brother-in-law’s mobile phone I called a friend, who had discipled us. I told him that my husband had been arrested and that he shouldn’t come to our house. I asked him to inform our pastor. So he sent my pastor an email and explained what had happened. At that time we didn’t know that our pastor had also been arrested. Later we found out that he and his wife were held in solitary confinement for more than two months. Later on, with someone else’s mobile phone, I called our friend again and we decided to meet at 2.30am in Fardis. Together, we went to some of the homes of the believers with whom we had contact, and found out that some other members had also been arrested. We arranged to go together to the Fardis Prosecutor’s Office, as the agent had suggested to me, so we could try to secure bail for all those who had been arrested.

9. On the day of Mani’s arrest, a Wednesday, I stayed at home the whole time; I thought that I might be contacted, but nothing happened. Then on the next day, Thursday, at 8am, I went to the Fardis Prosecutor’s Office. First, they fooled me and said there wasn’t any case-file related to the person I was speaking about and that I should talk to the police. But when I went there, they said such cases weren’t given to them and that the MOIS was responsible, so I should go back to the prosecutor’s office for answers to my questions.

10. At 11am, I arrived back at the prosecutor’s office and realised that they had just wanted to pass me around like a ball. So I started to shout loudly: “I won’t go home until someone tells me where my husband is!” Since they didn’t want people to raise their voices and draw attention to the situation, one of them came and asked me what I was upset about and what information I was looking for. I explained where, which date, and at what time my husband had been arrested and that I had been told to come to the Fardis Prosecutor’s Office for more information. He checked and confirmed that my husband’s case-file had been sent to another prosecutor’s office branch. So he sent me to the interrogator, Mr Nasser Khaki. 

11. For about four hours, myself and the other families who had come to pursue the cases of those arrested waited for Mr Khaki, until he finally called for us. He told us: “They were members of a church, so they were severely charged. From the point of view of Islamic law, their crime is apostasy and the sentence is execution, but Islamic mercy will benefit them. We have to look at their files and the evidence confiscated from their homes, and whether they were in contact with the Zionists of Israel, America or Britain – did they spy, and so on. If not, they will be jailed for six months to 10 years.”

12. Of those arrested, the church’s accountant, whom the judge treated very harshly, and my husband Mani, the librarian, were charged most severely. I asked what crimes they had committed, and he answered: “Apostasy, actions against the security of the regime, illegal goods, and illegal gatherings.” Every morning, at eight o’clock, myself and some of the other arrested Christians’ family members went to the prosecutor’s office and waited there until it closed.

13. Once, I went to the interrogator’s office and said that we hadn’t done anything against the law; we didn’t climb anyone’s wall or commit robbery or murder! I also said that becoming a Christian was a personal matter and that even if they sentenced us to 10 years in prison, we wouldn’t turn away from our faith. I said that maybe if he put a gun to my head, I would accept to revert to Islam out of fear, but in my heart I would still hold a different belief. The interrogator said that nothing like that was expected from us. I continued that I knew that maybe they didn’t understand what we were saying, but this was our spiritual belief and I would expect them to understand that. I said that I was sure they had found out through their investigations that the Christians they had arrested were good people. “Yes, we know,” he said. “It’s only that you have been fooled.”

Dina’s school

14. We lived in Shahrak-e-Naz, near Fardis. My eldest daughter, Dina, was in the second year of primary school at the time of my husband’s arrest. She went to school from 23 September until 10 November, when Mani was arrested. In our previous neighbourhood, I had met my daughter’s headmistress, shared the Gospel with her and given her a Bible. In tears my daughter had explained the story of her father’s arrest to the headmistress. She contacted me and when we had a meeting she said: “The Ministry of Education ordered us to identify the children in the school from religious minorities.” She said with kindness and compassion: “I didn’t mention your name, but please be careful and keep your faith secret.” However, since the school was a private school, she also thought that in the school’s interests she should avoid coming under the gaze of the Ministry of Education.

15. I explained to my daughter that she shouldn’t speak about the issues we were having at home to anyone, but she was so stressed that she felt she had to share her pain with the headmistress. Since I had paid the school fees for that term, I didn’t take Dina out of school immediately, but because of her deteriorating mental health she wasn’t able to finish the school year.

Prison

Mani

16. When we arrived at the prison, they made me stand in front of a wall. They knew my nickname so someone said: “Mr Mani, welcome!”  They handed me over to an older prison guard, who was in charge. He gave me some clothes and told me to put them on. I answered that I couldn’t see. He said: “You can raise your blindfold a little bit, just enough so that you can change your clothes.” Then they took me to another room. One person, who I only saw that day and never again, told me to remove my blindfold and to fill out the form in front of me. The form was more about personal details, but also questions like: “How did you become a Christian? Have you been baptised? Where and by whom were you baptised?” And so on. I didn’t tell the truth about my baptism, because I didn’t want to get anyone else in trouble or arrested.

17. I was unaware that our house-church had been under observation for a while, and that agents had also been to the houses of some of the other Christians and arrested them. They had arrested members from other house-church groups in Karaj as well, and had a lot of information. I could hear and recognise the voices of some other believers from Karaj. I thought at the time that only the members of the house-churches in Karaj had been arrested, but after my release I realised that they had also arrested Christians from groups in other cities.

18. When I was taken to my cell, through the hatch I was told that I could now take off my blindfold. Then after taking my fingerprints, they didn’t call for me for another five days! It was a very hard time, and for me it was like time was standing still. I didn’t know what was happening or would happen to those of us who had been arrested. I was very anxious.

19. One afternoon, I heard the voices of some of other Christians that I knew, so I realised they were also being held in the same place, or at least being interrogated. After five days, when they were transferring me from the detention centre to the prison for registration purposes, I managed to take a look around, and saw that I was in Rajaei Shahr Prison. I had worked at a taxi agency for many years, so I knew the streets well. From there I was taken to Ghezel Hesar Prison. Then they took my fingerprints and mugshot to create a criminal-record file about me.

20. Again I was transferred to the MOIS prison, Rajaei Shahr. I was taken to a cell that was 3m x 3m, and had a little window with thin metal bars across it. On a raised platform in the cell there was a toilet and a shower. They gave me three blankets: one as a pillow, one a blanket, and one to lie on. The light in the room was on 24 hours a day. Food was handed over through a small opening in the cell door.

21. We had heard from some Christians that had previously been arrested and imprisoned about the kind of questions that Christians are asked during the interrogation. They wanted us to be ready for that day. Five days after my arrest, the interrogations began. During those first days on my own, I prayed a lot and told God that I didn’t know how any of this had happened but that I really didn’t want to cause trouble for anyone by giving information. I also prayed: “God, you prayed for us not to lose our faith. Be gracious so that I can stay strong and faithful. I don’t want them to put me under pressure to turn away from believing in you, the truth.” For seven days I was interrogated, and some days not once but twice – at noon and in the afternoon. The interrogator never asked me to return to Islam.

22. My interrogator was a middle-aged man who was called Seyyed. He wrote his questions on paper, and asked me to write down my answers, then sign them and add my fingerprint to confirm I had written the answers. I was told with an insulting and mocking tone that one of my charges was that I was a member of “Evangelical Christianity” and had been evangelising others and doing church activities. He kept asking about the names of the other church members and active Christians. His aim was to get as much information as possible.

23. He asked: “Who is Mahan?” I knew that Mahan had been arrested, because I had heard his voice, and also some of the other church members, so I wrote down their names, or the names of a family who had already emigrated to Turkey three months before our arrest. So I wrote down the names only of people the agents already knew, or those who couldn’t be found. He asked me to talk about our pastor and to give his address. I answered that I didn’t know his address and that he would come to the house-church meetings from Tehran and always leave the meeting first. Actually, I really didn’t know the pastor’s home address.

24. When he asked me questions about house-church members and their activities, it was clear that groups were being arrested nationwide: in Karaj, Tehran, the north of Iran, Anzali, Hamedan, and so on. I guess that in the first five days of our detention they wanted to collect information from members of the other groups and then interrogate us to compare the answers so they could catch us contradicting each other.

25. I wasn’t blindfolded in the cell or the interrogation room, but everywhere else along the way to the cell and the interrogation room I was blindfolded. The interrogator was sometimes harsh and sometimes kind, so that he could reach his goals through various techniques. During one interrogation, there were several agents in the room, as well as the interrogator. During that interrogation, they didn’t remove my blindfold. They tried to use verses from the Quran and Hadiths to show that I had been deceived, and told me that when someone evangelised to me they had attacked my culture and religion.

26. I spent 12 days in solitary confinement and one day in the general ward of the prison. My wife had been following up on my case and the interrogator told her: “You can bail him out, so he can be released.” Marjan immediately did everything necessary and I was released on a 100 million toman bail [approx. $25,000], secured by submitting the property deed from my mother-in-law’s house.

27. On the last day of my imprisonment, I told an official that I would have to explain at my workplace where I had been for the past 13 days, so they handed me a letter with the prison’s letterhead, stating the date and duration of my detention, and the reason for my imprisonment. But there was no signature and no stamp. In that letter they wrote my charges: “actions against the security of the regime, propaganda against the regime and smuggling illegal goods”. As they had confiscated Bibles and many other Christian books from our home, they saw me as a smuggler, belonging to “Evangelical Christianity”, and the Bibles were the illegal goods.

Marjan

28. Our little girl was three years old at that time. Ten days after my husband’s arrest, she missed her father and I’d told her that he was in hospital. For three days she had a severe fever and every time I wanted to go out she would say: “Mum, you want to go to the hospital like Daddy and never come back!” When the interrogator at the prosecutor’s office found out that my little girl was sick, he asked if I could provide a 100 million toman bail or a property deed. I said that I could try. Then he continued: “Go and look for a property deed and I will take care of your husband’s case so you can release him on bail.” That was on the 10th day of Mani’s detention.

29. On the 12th day, they called me and told me to bring the bail. It took a whole day. I had to go to various different places within the prosecutor’s office to have stamps put on the property deed, which was then handed over to the government. During that time, my children were both at my sister’s house, so that they were removed from our difficult home environment and also so that they could play with my sister’s children and be distracted from what had happened. As for me, I was in the prosecutor’s office throughout its opening hours, and when the office was closed I was at home, so that I could be available if anyone from the prosecutor’s office or prison called. 

Family

Mani

30. At the time of my first interrogation, I asked my interrogator to allow me to call home. One week after my detention, on a Thursday, he told the prison guard that I was allowed to speak with my family for a few minutes. It was the first time since my arrest that I was allowed to call them. Prisoners could use a phone that was on the wall of the hallway, and which could be activated with a card. I was blindfolded, so the prison guard allowed me to take a look at the numbers so that I could dial. I talked to my wife for two minutes. 

31. The interrogator had told me a few times: “Your wife is very rude! I’ll bring her to jail too and arrest her, and do something so bad to her that she’ll learn her lesson!” I thought Marjan was still continuing with her activities and that is why the interrogator was talking angrily about her, so I told her on the phone not to contact anyone until I got home. I didn’t know that Marjan was aware of the arrests of the other Christians. 

After release

32. I was released on 23 November. After that, Marjan and I were summoned twice to the MOIS building in Gohardasht, Karaj. I think the first interrogation we were summoned to was at the end of January, and the second was two weeks later.

Marjan

33. We arrived at the MOIS building between 9.30am and 10am. We rang the doorbell. It was very quiet, as if no-one was in the building. An elderly man, whom I suppose was responsible for the kitchen, guided us to a room. Mani’s interrogator, Mr Seyyed, proceeded to ask me, for about four and a half hours, the same questions he had been asked during the 13 days of his detention.

34. He asked me: “What was the purpose of the house-church-meetings that your pastor and his wife started? Who supported them? From where did they get money? Did they hold seminars and conferences?” The interrogator thought that our pastor wouldn’t do his activities only for the sake of God, and that there had to be benefits for him. I said that in the Bible it says “freely you have received, so freely give”, and that our pastor, because of the love for other people that God had poured into his heart, and the salvation he had received, wanted to evangelise and serve others.

35. Mr Seyyed asked what we did at the meetings. I answered that we would pray and worship and said that our pastor actually prayed for the government and the officials, and that he had also taught us to do so. He asked what we prayed for them, and I said that we prayed that God would save them. He said mockingly that we must have had nothing else to do, so that is why we prayed for them! Then, misunderstanding what I meant, he asked if we knew him or the other interrogators, because I’d said we prayed for them. I replied that we didn’t know their names and hadn’t seen them before but that Christians always pray for the government and the officials because this is what we are taught to do. Mr Seyyed asked me why I had become a Christian and what was wrong with Islam. I explained that faith was a personal thing and that he would have to experience Christ for himself to really be able to understand what I meant.

36. Most of his questions were about our pastor. My husband and I told him the truth about everything we were asked. He wondered why, after all that had happened, with Mani taken to jail and my children and I going through a lot of stress, I still believed in Jesus. I answered that I loved Jesus now even more than before my husband was arrested. Then he asked who I believed Christ was. I said that I knew Jesus as my God and the second person of the Trinity. He responded: “Stop this nonsense!”

37. He asked if we had been to Khorramabad [in western Iran] to teach other Christians. In fact, our pastor had asked us to go to Khorramabad but I had said “no” because I didn’t want to cause problems for the Christians there. Mr Seyyed accused me of looking him in the eyes and lying. He also said that he could bring a witness, and if the witness confirmed that we had been to Khorramabad, he would tear off our skin! I said that, very well, he could bring the witness. Mr Seyyed replied: “You are very rude!” Then I remembered that actually we had been to Khorramabad once, to pray for my friend’s son who had cancer, so I told him that. He asked what the results had been, having taken so long to journey there. I said that he wouldn’t believe it but that the child had been healed! He wrote down whatever he asked, and I had to answer both verbally and in writing, and then sign it. He said that one member of our group had spied on us, then he let us go and told us to wait to be told the date of our court hearing.

Mani

38. The next time we were summoned for interrogation, Mr Sahaf Kashani, an Islamic cleric dressed in a suit, spoke to us. He was accompanied by two clerics in training. Their aim was to convince us to return to Islam. Mr Sahaf Kashani said he wished we could have met somewhere else and talked to each other like friends, and that maybe he would then be convinced by our arguments and become a Christian himself. When he spoke like that, we asked if we could talk about our beliefs without worrying about any problems afterwards. He assured us that there wouldn’t be any problems.

39. A camera was filming us during the interrogation. When we complained about it, he said the camera was off, but he was lying. An interrogator then told us that we should cooperate with them and go anywhere they asked us to. The MOIS agents kept calling us at home, putting pressure on us and demanding us to promise to take part in no further Christian activities. Finally, we had to promise not to have any more church gatherings. Once Mr Seyyed and once Mr Nasser Khaki received that promise from me, and Marjan had to make that commitment too. Thank God, they didn’t demand any commitment from us to revert to Islam.

40. It was quite obvious that we were under observation. Our apartment was in a cul-de-sac with just three buildings, and there was always a Peugeot 405 outside, with two or three agents in it. I couldn’t see their faces clearly, but they were in their late 30s or early 40s and wore suits and shirts, with the particular type of collar that agents and mullahs usually wear. They also had long beards and were staring directly at our home. From the window of our living room we could see their car. Our home wasn’t secure anymore, our phone calls were listened to, and I felt like they would enter our home as soon as we went out. They called us several times and said: “You are being watched; we are monitoring your conversations and activities.”

Marjan

41. We had been told that the one who was giving them information and spying on us was one of our members. They wanted us to distrust our own shadow. They even suggested we spy for them and that we go to our house-churches and do whatever they said. We said we were no longer in touch with the people from our group. 

Pressure continues

42. After our pastor was released, we met him at the home of another Christian in February 2016. He told us that he couldn’t tell anyone to leave the country or to stay, but that we couldn’t continue to serve in house-churches in Iran. He said that if we visited other Christians, we could get into more trouble and maybe end up back in jail, and that we’d also be putting others in danger. 

Mani

43. Our identification documents were confiscated the day of my arrest, so our passports were in the possession of the MOIS, and I wouldn’t be able to get passports for my children without their birth certificates. For that reason, before the second interrogation, I went to the Fardis Prosecutor’s Office to see my interrogator, Mr Nasser Khaki. He asked why I had come to his office. I explained that our landlord wanted us to move out and that I needed identification documents to quickly rent another place; otherwise the landlord would throw our belongings onto the street. He wrote a letter and handed it to me, saying: “Take this to the Karaj MOIS building.” That same day I rang the doorbell at the MOIS building and handed over the letter and said that I wanted my documents back. The man there told me that they would be in touch. Because of the excuse I had made up about looking for new accommodation, they gave me back my birth certificate and national ID card, and then during my second interrogation they gave back all our identification documents. But none of the other stuff they had confiscated was returned. I am most upset about our family photo album because now we don’t have any photos of our children from the time before my arrest.

44. Once, the interrogator told us: “You either have to convert to Islam or you don’t have the right to live in Iran.” I’m sure that they were keeping us under surveillance and putting pressure on us so we would leave Iran. They even told me once in the MOIS building that so many believers had left Iran. The agent handed me a letter and wanted me to write that a Christian family that we knew had fled Iran. I answered that I didn’t know what he was talking about. He said: “You know very well! You accompanied them yourself and wished them well!” It turned out they even knew which flight they’d got on.

45. After being released from prison, I was told that I wasn’t allowed to travel with anyone other than my immediate family, and I even had to sign a commitment that I wouldn’t see anyone other than them. But my wife and I couldn’t break off our contact with the other Christians we knew and had ministered to for five years in our house-church. So we would meet up in the park, or our car, or at night. Once they even stayed over, but although we met and kept in touch, we had no more house-church gatherings. In February, when we left our home and were getting ready to leave Iran, even then we stayed at the house of another Christian family. 

46. But until the last moment, I didn’t know if I would be banned from leaving. However, since I had been released on bail, I was certain that at least they wouldn’t put me back in jail until after the trial. Nevertheless it was very risky and until I got on the plane I was scared they might not let me leave. We fled Iran on 3 March 2016, and arrived in Turkey.

Court

47. The trial was held on 23 July 2016 at 2nd Branch of the Revolutionary Court of Karaj, presided over by Judge Safari. My case was heard alongside those of the other Christians who were arrested. Our lawyer called afterwards and said: “I went to the court. You have been issued a sentence of one year in prison on the charge of ‘propaganda against the Islamic Republic through the formation of a house-church, and the promotion of Evangelical Christianity and converting Muslims’.” We asked him to send us the written verdict, but he said the judge hadn’t given it to him. Our appeal was held on 12 December 2016, and the judge upheld the one-year sentence.

48. Before the trial, I gave my brother absolute power of attorney. He had talked to my lawyer, about trying to get my mother-in-law’s property deed released. But the judge said in court that either we had to go to jail for a year, or the property deed would be kept as our bail. I asked Mr Rahimi to do whatever he could to get it released, but he said: “I can’t do anything legally, because you’d have to go to jail to get it released.” But later we paid a 14 million toman [approx. $5,000] fee and he was able to secure the release of the document somehow.

Iran’s Supreme Court rules converts did not act against national security

Iran’s Supreme Court rules converts did not act against national security

Clockwise from top-left: Shahrooz Eslamdoust, Mehdi Khatibi, Babak Hosseinzadeh, Hossein Kadivar, Mohammad Vafadar, Abdolreza (Matthias) Ali-Haghnejad, Behnam Akhlaghi, Khalil Dehghanpour, Kamal Naamanian.

Iran’s Supreme Court has ruled that nine converts serving five-year prison sentences for their involvement in house-churches should not have been charged with “acting against national security”, in what has the potential to become a landmark ruling.

While the ruling is not enough on its own to set an official “precedent”, nevertheless it has the potential to influence all current and future cases involving Persian-speaking Christians.

The ruling, handed down on 3 November but only communicated to their lawyers yesterday, states explicitly that their involvement in house-churches and even the propagation of what is referred to as the “Evangelical Zionist sect” should not be deemed an action against national security. 

This is significant, because in each of the cases involving the more than 20 Christians currently incarcerated in Iran for their involvement in house-churches, the charges amounted to “actions against national security”.

But the Supreme Court’s ruling states that: “Merely preaching Christianity, and promoting the ‘Evangelical Zionist sect’, both of which apparently means propagating Christianity through family gatherings [house-churches] is not a manifestation of gathering and collusion to disrupt the security of the country, whether internally or externally.”

It adds that the “formation of these societies and groups [house-churches] is not [a breach of] Articles 498 and 499 of the Islamic Penal Code [relating to membership or organisation of “anti-state groups”], or other criminal laws.” 

Again, this is significant because Articles 498 and 499 were used in the convictions of each one of Iran’s Christian prisoners of conscience.

The ruling further states: “The promotion of Christianity and the formation of a house-church is not criminalised in law.”

Background

The Supreme Court’s ruling came just one week after two of the nine – and a third convert serving a separate six-year sentence for leading a house-church – wrote an open letter and recorded video statements, asking for clarification of where they should worship once they are released.

“The churches in our city have been closed down, the doors are shut, so we can’t worship in a church building,” said one of the men, Babak Hosseinzadeh, in his video message. 

“The churches that remain open are accessible for only certain people – those born into Christian families – and not to us [converts]. Because of this, and the closure of the other churches, we have no church building in which to worship. So I want you to answer my question: ‘Where am I to worship after these five years?’”

Article18 subsequently launched a campaign, calling for all Persian-speaking Christians to be given a #Place2Worship, a campaign that has had the backing of  several other Christian organisations and former prisoners of conscience including Farshid Fathi and Mary Mohammadi.

Some of the nine men were already eligible for parole, having served over one third of their five-year sentences, but they were reluctant to accept their conditional release without being assured that they will not be rearrested if they continue to meet together to pray and worship.

As Babak said in his video: “When I am released, will you put me back in prison again because I continue to believe in Christ? Will I be separated from my family again? Will I still be threatened with exile?”

The Supreme Court’s ruling should now pave the way for the release of the nine men following a retrial at a Revolutionary Court.

Even more importantly, it will give the nine – and thousands of others across Iran – hope that they may now be able to worship together in their homes without fear of imprisonment. 

Article18’s advocacy director, Mansour Borji, commented: “We welcome this ruling, from the highest court in the land, but continue to call for clarification from the Iranian authorities of where Persian-speaking Christians can worship without fear of arrest and imprisonment.

“We further call for Persian-speaking Christians to be provided with a specific place of worship, as is their right under both Iran’s constitution and the international covenants to which Iran is a signatory, without reservation.”