4. Dreams and Visions 25 February 2023 Notes from Prison This is the fourth in a series of articles by Mojtaba Hosseini, an Iranian convert to Christianity who spent more than three years in prison in the southern city of Shiraz because of his membership of a house-church. Mojtaba’s first note from prison explained his journey to faith and the first of his two subsequent arrests; his second detailed his long interrogation; his third explained the desperation and loneliness of solitary confinement. In this fourth note, Mojtaba describes some of the dreams and visions he had in prison. Oh, how sweet it felt to be home! It was lunchtime, I was sitting next to my father, and my mother had brought out some delicious home-cooked food. My sisters were rejoicing that I was safely back home and in good health. Overflowing with a sense of peace and security, in the warm, comforting atmosphere of home, I thanked God a thousand times that the nightmare of solitary confinement was over. It felt like no-one could steal this peace from me. It was in this blissful state that I was suddenly aroused from slumber by the loud noise of the hatch to my cell door being opened. The prison guard barked out his orders in his usual demeaning tone: “Hurry up and take your breakfast!” My heart was pounding, and I was in a daze. I couldn’t believe I was still in prison. That sweet dream had felt so real, so profound, as though I had been out of jail for many years. Suddenly being brought back to a very different reality was a stark contrast which was hard to digest. Such dreams came to me from time to time. In one sense they were sweet, but they were also like torture, because every time I opened my eyes to rediscover that I remained in the confines of my cell, I was reminded that I was still living a nightmare which was very real. Restless As the days went by, my frustration and loneliness intensified. At the same time, every time I returned from the intense interrogations, I became more and more restless and found it harder and harder to cope. As I paced around my tiny cell, all day long, from morning till night, I fretted about my next interrogation: whether I would be able to bear it, and what answers I would give to their incessant questions. To escape these thoughts, I continuously prayed and worshipped, feeling that if I stopped to consider my situation for even a moment, my anxiety and frustration would overwhelm me. Some days, I kept on walking from morning till night, despite the pain in my legs. My negative thoughts also affected me in another way: they made me feel unworthy, like a failure, because in the sheer loneliness that I felt, missing my loved ones, I always remembered the times we had shared together, but what kept coming to mind were the times I had failed them. The mistakes I had made, and my deep regret for behaving in a certain way towards them, were constantly on mind. So were the mistakes I had made in my relationship with God; I was defining myself by my failures. Sometimes it felt like God must have rejected me because of my failures, and once, unconsciously, I remember praying from the bottom of my heart: “Father, Father, why have you forsaken me?” But there were also times when, through worship and prayer, I was able to kneel in the presence of God and remember again his great grace and forgiveness, made available to me in Christ, and the great changes that he had accomplished within me and also my family. During those moments, I would hear his kind, comforting voice, telling me: “You are my beloved son, in whom I am well pleased.” In this battle, I experienced more and more of the presence of Jesus with me, the perfecter of my faith, knowing that he had gone through every one of these struggles and emerged victorious. I found strength and courage, by the Holy Spirit, and knew that whether I was failing or succeeding, standing strong or crumpled in a heap, I was his child and that my identity was in him. A vision One day, I felt such an overwhelming sense of hopelessness that I felt I couldn’t endure going to yet another interrogation; I so desperately wanted my nightmare to end. I was crying out in prayer and expressing my feelings to God, when suddenly I saw a vision – but more than just an image, I had a feeling, or a deep inner understanding, which I will try my best to describe: I saw a group of people, and seeing them gave me nothing but joy and peace. Their affection for each other was so pure that they seemed even closer than brothers and sisters, and there was no tension or disharmony between them. It seemed like it was impossible for any of them to cause another pain, and it was clear that all their hope and joy was found in being with one another. They were so warm and close with each other, and shared such joy and laughter. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to put into words how powerful that vision was for me, but it was like tasting a piece of heaven. And in the midst of them, right in the centre, I saw Christ standing, and everyone gathered around him. They seemed to be celebrating a great victory, and I had a sense that the people I was looking at were extremely strong, and that there were none stronger. And then, right at that moment, Christ spoke to me from the crowd, and said: “You belong to us, and we are with you.” At that moment, unconsciously, a smile appeared on my face, and my mood was utterly transformed and I was able to rejoice in the living and sweet truth of God. This vision, which was more powerful than any nightmare, brought me refreshment and a new measure of courage. I remember being interrogated that same day, and at the interrogation table the sweetness of that moment remained with me, and the smile was still on my face. Through this vision, God showed me what my real identity was, and where and to whom I belonged – to the divine family, whose centre is Christ – and that belonging to him brings with it the very fullness of honour and joy.
‘Wherever we went, intelligence agents would follow our car and take pictures of us’ 22 February 2023 Analysis This extract of an interview conducted by the director of Human Rights Without Frontiers, Willy Fautré, was first published by the magazine Bitter Winter and is republished here with kind permission. Iranian-Assyrian Christian Dabrina Bet-Tamraz was forced to flee Tehran in 2010 because of her faith. She is now a pastor in a German-speaking Protestant community in Switzerland, and a tireless campaigner for religious freedom in Iran, having been the voice of the voiceless at the United Nations, in her meeting with the US President, and at American think-tanks. Dabrina’s parents, Pastor Victor Bet-Tamraz and Shamiram Issavi, were sentenced to a combined 15 years in prison. They fled Iran in 2020 when they were summoned to start serving their prison terms, and joined their daughter in Switzerland. ‘What does it mean to be a Christian in Iran?’ “During my life in Tehran we were shadowed all the time by officers of the Ministry of Intelligence and the police. Wherever we went, they would follow our car and take pictures of us. They even followed me when I was alone on the street and sent my picture to my parents to show that they were watching each of us in the family. We lost our privacy. They would call us on a regular basis to check where we were. On several occasions, they broke into our home, just to show we were under surveillance. This is what it meant to be a Christian in Iran. I had got used to that sort of life. It was so normal that when I started living in another country, I was shocked to realise that it was not normal at all. It took me eight years in Switzerland to stop looking back in the mirror of my car and checking all the cars passing by before parking.” ‘Were you arrested when you were living in Iran?’ “When I was 17, I spent three years and a half in England to study theology. I went back home in 2007 and started studying psychology at the university but I was also serving the Church with my parents. I was arrested several times in 2009 when our church was closed by the authorities. I was repeatedly called for interrogations by the police. They wanted me to ‘cooperate’ with them, which meant giving them the names of our members and leaders, the times and places of our private gatherings, the number of people attending but also the activities of pastors in other cities. They wanted me to work for them as their spy [against] my family, our church but also other churches. As I refused to do so, they threatened me with rape, arrest and imprisonment for five years. Finally I was expelled from the university and I thought it was time for me to leave a country where I had no more future.” ‘Article 13 of the Iranian constitution recognises Christians, Jews, and Zoroastrians as protected religious minorities with the right to worship freely and form religious societies, but your picture of religious life in Iran is very different and suggests that religious minorities are severely discriminated against. How can you explain that?’ “Christianity is only partly recognised, and we suffer from harsh limitations in the practice of our faith, our freedom of assembly and worship. Since the 1979 revolution, the regime has imposed a new identity on the Iranian people which is based on people’s religious beliefs. If you are a Shia Muslim, no problem. If you are not a Shia believer, you will face restrictions. As a child, I was discriminated against and stigmatised at school. Christian children were considered ‘unclean’ and were mistreated. In the 1990s, more than eight pastors and church leaders were killed because of their faith. My father was arrested and interrogated on a regular basis. He was asked to ‘cooperate’ with the authorities. As he didn’t, he was discriminated against and threatened. “My father was arrested in 2014, [and] my brother and my mother in 2016, because of their church activities and for allegedly ‘acting against national security’ and ‘training spies’. My brother is still in Iran with his family. He spent three months in prison, and then six months. He was released in 2020 during the coronavirus epidemic. He is still out of jail right now.” ‘You said Christians endured restrictions to the practice of their faith. Can you give some examples?’ “Iran has signed the Universal Declaration of Human Rights and the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights. According to these international instruments, all the citizens of Iran should fully enjoy their right to freedom of religion, including the right to share their beliefs and the right to convert. Before Mahmoud Ahmadinejad was president of Iran from 2005 to 2013, we were allowed to have religious services in [Persian], the official language of Iran, and to have religious literature in Persian. When Ahmadinejad became president, we were not allowed any more to conduct services in thePersian language, to have literature or books in Persian. Only Assyrian people could enter the church and only the language of the Assyrians could be used. Muslim converts to Christianity were not recognised as Christians by the authorities, although they are in majority in the Christian community of Iran. We were not allowed to have Iranians and converts in the church. We were not allowed to worship in Persian. Under Ahmadinejad, Protestants were considered terrorists, Zionists, and a threat to national security. Ten years after Ahmadinejad’s rule, Christians like us are still not allowed to share their faith with Iranians in their own language.” ‘Was it easy to get political asylum in Switzerland?’ “I went to Switzerland, thinking that the situation would improve in Iran and I could go back home six months or a year later. After some time, I realised there was no hope and I asked for political asylum. It took me two years to get this status. I had to provide evidence that I was really an Assyrian Christian and that I and my family were persecuted in Iran. After 12 years spent in Europe, it is still my hope and my dream to go back to a free Iran.” You can watch the full interview below:
‘When I became a Christian, I was beaten and kicked out of the house’ 22 February 2023 Features, News Parsa’s story is different from a lot of other Iranian Christians who have experienced persecution. For most, the primary source of persecution is the state, but in Parsa’s case, although he was also pressured by the security forces, the main point of pressure came from his family. Parsa converted to Christianity at the age of 21, and this proved very difficult to accept for his family, who were devout Muslims. His mother and brother told him they were glad about the positive changes in his behaviour since his conversion, but sad he no longer prayed with them. “I explained to them that I had started to believe in Jesus,” Parsa explains, “and my brother said, with a lump in his throat: ‘You’ll be sorry if Dad learns about it!’ A month later, my father found out, beat me up, and kicked me out of the house.” Parsa was also pressured at work, and told he would be fired unless he returned to Islam. Parsa refused; so that was the end of his job. Meanwhile, at home, the pressure from his family continued. They separated his dishes and towels from theirs, made him stay in different rooms from his siblings, and even locked him up at night. “They thought I had been given medicine, which had changed me and calmed me down so that I could forgive and love,” he says. “My mother used to say: ‘Your behaviour is great. Stay the same, but come and pray with us!’ I would try to explain to her what the real reason was for my change in behaviour, but she couldn’t accept it.” Parsa explains how his family even invited Islamic scholars and a friend of his to try to change his mind. But this friend only testified that he’d seen positive changes in Parsa since his conversion, and a few months later he too converted. Still, Parsa’s family would not give up. They called upon an acquaintance with ties to the regime, and asked him to arrest Parsa, but this man replied: “Please don’t ask me to do such a thing! I don’t want to! Because if someone is arrested for these charges, there is no way out, and they will definitely kill him, and then you and your family will regret it. You’ve been patient until now, so continue enduring it, and maybe he’ll regret it in the future.” But Parsa did not regret his decision, and continued to meet up with his new Christian friends. He was baptised in the summer of 2013. But two years later, as Parsa and two of his Christian friends were finalising their plans for a new business venture together, their premises was raided by agents of the Ministry of Intelligence. The agents drove Parsa back to his house, to conduct a search, and his father cursed him, telling the agents: “This boy has ruined us! We did everything we could, but we couldn’t bring him back to the right path. Why didn’t you come sooner? Take him with you and do whatever your heart desires. Even if you kill him, I won’t complain!” Parsa was detained and interrogated for three weeks, and says he was “severely tortured psychologically”. “They find your weakness and try to put pressure on you, even through phone calls – for example, they knew that my mother was upset about my condition, so they called my home and asked for my mother on purpose. When I talked to her, she was crying, and her tears made me feel bad. I started crying with her and told her not to worry about me. Relatives had gathered at our house during that time, and they were sad about my arrest. They mourned with my family, and cried.” With his arrest, Parsa says his family’s approach to him softened, and they even reached out to their friend with ties to the regime for help. “Miraculously,” Parsa says, it turned out that this man knew his interrogator. “Before they spoke together, my interrogator had insulted me during every interrogation,” he says, “but after their call, his behaviour towards me changed completely… ‘I want to help you,’ he told me, ‘so you have to fill out these forms’… “He said: ‘You have to make a commitment not to see any of your Christian friends after your release and not to travel with them.’ I said I would never agree to that. ‘You are well aware that we didn’t commit any crime,’ I said. ‘You asked us not to do any training sessions, and I will obey that, but you can’t take away our natural right to visit each other. If you have problems with our gatherings at home, we will meet in the park and pray together there.’ He replied: ‘You are very rude, and if you continue like this, I will order that they execute you!’ But I refused to make or sign any such commitment. After three weeks’ detention, Parsa was released on bail, paid for through the submission of his father’s property deed. “My father put a lot of pressure on me because of this,” Parsa says. Parsa’s education was also impacted. He needed just six credits to complete a degree, but suddenly Parsa stopped receiving good grades. “When I was in prison, the interrogator had told me: ‘If you don’t cooperate with us, all your work opportunities and even your university education in Iran will be over,'” Parsa says. “But I hadn’t really thought the MOIS would inform the university about my arrest and security file. I had completed my diploma at another university, and at that time I was studying accounting at the Islamic Azad University of Qods City in Tehran. But due to the interference of the intelligence officials, unfortunately I wasn’t allowed to pass the six credits required to receive my final degree.” Meanwhile, Parsa says that “everywhere I went, one or two cars followed me, and my phone calls were tapped, which made me paranoid. Even when I went to buy new clothes, I felt like they were watching and listening to my every move… “The most stressful moment for me was when someone knocked on the door, and I went to open it. Even if the person standing on the other side was my best friend, the experience made me feel very nervous and disorientated. Unconsciously, I would experience a déjà vu of the scene when I opened the door and agents had entered and arrested me.” Ten months after his release from prison, Parsa fled Iran, and sought asylum in Turkey. Three months later, he was sentenced, in absentia, to five years in prison. Parsa explains that in the more than six years since he fled Iran, he’s attended many counselling sessions, as well as a trauma-awareness course run by Article18, which he says “helped me a lot to get rid of the déjà vus that I suffered from”. But though he claimed asylum in 2016, Parsa is still waiting for an interview with the Turkish authorities, which have since taken over refugee cases from the UNHCR. You can read Parsa’s full Witness Statement here.
Parsa Mostafaei 22 February 2023 News, Witness Statements For a summary of Parsa’s story, you can read our feature article here. Background 1. My name is Ali Mostafaei, known as Parsa. I was born in June 1991 in Shahriar, Tehran, to a large and relatively well-off family. I have three sisters and three brothers, and I’m the youngest. But as a result of the medication my mother used during pregnancy, I was of an anxious disposition and different from the rest of my siblings. 2. Every member of my family adhered strongly to Islam, and we used to attend congregational prayers at the mosque. We all prayed the five daily prayers on time, and if we missed the prayer time, we would feel really bad about it. My father and older brother were members of the board of trustees of the local mosque and religious centre. Because of my love for God, I started praying at the age of 11, instead of the official age of 15 [when Muslim boys are obliged to pray]. I also read the Quran in Arabic and Persian. But although I had a religious family, there were regular fights and disagreements within the family. 3. My family controlled my relationships with my friends, and they weren’t happy with the way I dressed, my hair, and my overall appearance. If I disobeyed or refused to act according to their taste, my father or older brother would severely beat me. I was so angry that I thought I could never, and would never, forgive my brother. On holidays like Nowruz [Persian New Year], my father tried to bring the family closer together, but the next day it would just go back to how it always was. 4. At the age of 15, in 2006, due to disagreements and problems with my family, I decided to separate my life from my family’s, so I left home. But after three days, they found me and brought me back. 5. After returning, I decided to work hard at school and find a job, so that I wouldn’t be dependent on my family. I started working at the age of 15, and I only went home for food and sleep, and spent the rest of my time elsewhere, so that I could do what I liked. But I still prayed, because I loved God and thought that prayer and good deeds would undo the mistakes and sins I had committed. But others thought I was hypocritical. Conversion and first house-church meeting 6. After school, I started university and, during the second term, started working at a company that repaired road-construction machines. Before that, I didn’t have much money, and, due to the state of my relationship with my family, I didn’t want to receive any help from them. So I went to university three days a week and worked in the company for the rest of the week. 7. At work, there was a very respectable young man, one of the company’s young engineers, named Sajjad, who was a year older than me, and very different from the others. One day he took me with him to do a job in Tehran. In the car, he talked to me about Jesus. Two things happened inside me at the same time: one was that I wanted to open my mouth and swear at him, and the other was that I was attracted by his words. 8. He asked me about my life, because really my religiosity didn’t tally with my lifestyle. He talked about Christ, and I talked about Islam. ّI couldn’t accept his conversion and it made me hate him. My life went on as usual, but when I saw Sajjad and how well he behaved, I felt conflicted. So, secretly and in the middle of the night, away from the eyes of other family members, I started to read the Bible and watched the film about Jesus that Sajjad had given to me as a gift. 9. One day in November 2012, when we were at work, Sajjad noticed me being agitated. The reason was that I felt confused and worried about my family’s reaction to my possible decision to follow Christ. Sajjad asked me: “I have friends who pray together in a particular place. Would you like to join us?” I accepted and he took me to his house, which was an hour away from ours. 10. Sajjad’s younger sister, who was married, and his mother and two friends were there. It was very strange for me; I had never seen women worship without hijab. I was extremely impressed with the atmosphere and how beautiful and interesting it was that they worshipped God in Persian. With Sajjad’s invitation, I prayed that night and made a decision to follow Christ. Family and work 11. I started secretly talking with some family members about Jesus, and some of them also converted. Once, my older brother and my mother asked me a lot about the great change in my behaviour and said: “We are very happy with your actions and behaviour, but why don’t you pray [the Muslim prayers]? If Dad realises that you aren’t praying, he’ll be very angry.” I explained to them that I had started to believe in Jesus, and my brother said, with a lump in his throat: “You’ll be sorry if Dad learns about it!” A month later, my father found out, beat me up, and kicked me out of the house. 12. In January 2013, about two months after my conversion, Sajjad was summoned to the company’s head office for talking about Christianity at work. I was also summoned and told: “We want to fire Sajjad, but we have done some research about you and your family and we know that you have a religious family and that they are committed to Islam, and we feel that you have been deceived by Sajjad’s words. Also, you are the only employee who both studies and works, and has the same salary [as those who work full-time]. So you have good conditions in this company; return to Islam so that you can work again.” 13. But when the company officials realised that I was not willing to give up my faith, they fired me as well. I called Sajjad and told him that I had been fired because of Christianity, and Sajjad hung up. Because of security issues, we never talked about our faith and Christian activities on the phone. 14. After a while, my family decided to take me back home, but to try to influence my thoughts so that I would return to Islam. Famous and well-known Islamic teachers and experts in Islamic law, who had even been invited to speak on the Islamic Republic’s state radio and television several times, were invited to our home to have a discussion with me and bring me back to Islam. They also tried hard to find out who had evangelised to me, but I didn’t name Sajjad. 15. My family treated me badly, considered me unclean and an infidel, and separated my dishes and towels from theirs. They also separated my room from the others, and locked me up at night, especially when my sisters came home. They thought I had been given medicine, which had changed me and calmed me down so that I could forgive and love. My mother used to say: “Your behaviour is great. Stay the same, but come and pray with us!” I would try to explain to her what the real reason was for my change in behaviour, but she couldn’t accept it. I endured a lot of psychological pressure from my family. I prayed for them at night, and I didn’t understand the reasons for all their opposition and insults, despite my tangible changes. 16. My family even invited my friend Pedram, who was our neighbour, and talked to him about me. On the one hand, they didn’t want me to influence someone else, and on the other, they saw Pedram as an example and said that, like him, I should do some research before leaving Islam. But Pedram said to my family: “I know Ali; I know everything he does, how he behaves and how he speaks. He has changed completely these last three months.” A few months later, Pedram also converted to Christianity. 17. My family harassed me; my father is very bigoted about Islam. When he realised that he couldn’t convert me in any way, he beat me up and threw me out of the house again. I evangelised to many people at the university, and among my relatives, and gave them Bibles and the “Jesus” film. And many of my relatives converted to Christianity. 18. My older brother used to love me very much and wanted us to start working together, but it didn’t happen because of my faith in Jesus. Six months after my conversion, my brother called one of his influential acquaintances and put the phone on speaker so I could hear him. My brother told this man: “We did everything we could to return Ali back to Islam, but it hasn’t worked. Please inform the officials, so that they can come and arrest him and take him away.” But he replied: “Please don’t ask me to do such a thing! I don’t want to! Because if someone is arrested for these charges, there is no way out, and they will definitely kill him, and then you and your family will regret it. You’ve been patient until now, so continue enduring it, and maybe he’ll regret it in the future.” House-church and youth group in Karaj 19. The first time I was kicked out, I was away from home for about two to three months, and the next time for six months. Pedram and I borrowed a pick-up truck, which I later bought in instalments, and I and slept in it at night. Also, sometimes I would stay at Sajjad’s house, or another friend’s house. After a while I rented a place together with another Christian friend. At that time, I went to university and also worked with Pedram in an air-conditioning business. We went to people’s homes to do installations and repairs. 20. I participated in house-church meetings in Shahriar. In the summer of 2013, I was secretly baptised in a swimming pool by the leader, Brother Sam. According to the rules of our house-church, each person who evangelised to someone spent several months separately with the new Christian, and if he or she was found to be trustworthy, they were invited to attend meetings. Based on security issues, not more than 15 people gathered in each meeting. We also wouldn’t say the address of the meeting over the phone, and I would go to pick up the members and take them to the weekly meeting-place. 21. I also attended youth meetings in Karaj; Brother Sam had asked me to teach a group of five to six people in the Marlik area about the principles of Christian belief – a sign I was being given more responsibilities. In addition to the meetings, I spent time each week praying with them, and counselling them. Because I had a pick-up truck, I was given Christian books to transport. Arrest 22. Pedram and I wanted to start our own business, so we rented the garage of a house in Andisheh Town Phase 5 – a residential place that we could use to do free food deliveries within the neighbourhood. 23. We had done all the preparations and already bought half the equipment, but then, on 10 November 2015, Pedram, another Christian friend and I closed the garage door and watched football to relax, and at about 10pm, someone knocked on the garage door and said: “Sir, is that your van outside?” I said that it was, and he said: “I hit your van from behind with my car; please come and see what we should do.” Without thinking about how he could have hit my car in an empty alley, and why we didn’t hear a sound, I opened the door. Suddenly, someone pushed me, and over 10 people entered the garage. We were frightened and thought they were thieves. They sat Pedram and my friend on chairs, and I was put on my chest on the floor. I thought they wanted to take our wallets, rob the shop and leave. 24. But after five minutes, I suddenly realised that they weren’t thieves but were agents and were searching the store. Their faces were covered with masks so we wouldn’t be able to identify them. Some of them, like military commanders, wore black, and a group of young people in their twenties were with them – probably Basijis [paramilitaries belonging to the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps]. I asked: “Are you from the Ministry of Intelligence?” One of them said, ironically: “No, we’re thieves!” When I tried to get up, he put his gun against my temple. I could feel the iron of the revolver against my head. 25. With fear and trembling, I pushed the gun aside with my head and got up and demanded: “Show me your warrant.” One of them showed me a warrant with my name on it: “Ali Mosafaei, nicknamed Parsa.” Pedram’s name was also on the sheet. Our phone calls had been listened to and they had precise information about us. At the same time, they had raided the homes of other Christian groups in the north of Iran, and in Shiraz, etc., and arrested them. 26. They had my parents’ and Pedram’s home addresses, and took Pedram to his house, and separately me to mine in an SUV. An agent told me: “Don’t be afraid; none of your family members are at home.” But while they were searching the house, one by one my family arrived and cried when they saw the scene of my arrest – though my father cursed at me and told the officers: “This boy has ruined us! We did everything we could, but we couldn’t bring him back to the right path. Why didn’t you come sooner? Take him with you and do whatever your heart desires. Even if you kill him, I won’t complain!” 27. They searched the entire house, even the store room, and removed all the notebooks and books they thought were related to Christianity. They confiscated my ID cards, passport, computer, mobile phone, Bible, handwritten notes, notebooks, books, CDs – even books and CDs that weren’t related to Christianity, and books I used for university. One of the agents searched my pick-up truck and found a “Good News for A New Age Bible”, which had just been published and had no cover. He thought that because it was a big book, he had made an important discovery and said: “Look what I have found, and what books he reads!” 28. From the time they entered the garage, until we arrived at the prison, one of them was filming me and everywhere we went, and during the filming, he was reporting on what he saw: “This is Shahriar, the house of the accused,” and so on. In the presence of my family, they treated me with respect in order to show themselves respectable, but then they pushed me into the car and insulted me. Those whose names were on a piece of paper they had brought with them and who lived in Marlik were taken to Karaj Prison, but because I lived in Shahriar and Shahriar was a suburb of Tehran, I was taken to Evin Prison. On the way, they handcuffed me and blindfolded me. Two agents sat in the front of the car, and I and another agent sat in the back. Ward 209, Evin Prison 29. The car stopped in the street in the Evin Prison area. When we got inside the prison, there were two large rooms next to each other on the right-hand side, where people were taken to change their clothes and have their pictures taken. One by one, the rest of the detainees were brought in, including Pedram, Sajjad and several of my relatives. We had to give them our clothes, and were given prison uniforms. They took my glasses because some prisoners commit suicide using the glass from them. I have a high prescription, so it was difficult for me to be without my glasses. 30. We were taken to Ward 209, which was on the first floor. Even though it was a solitary cell, mine was better than the cells of my other friends. There was no toilet in the cell, so they let me out of the cell to use the toilet. They gave me three blankets: one as a pillow, one a blanket, and one to lie on. They also gave me a toothbrush and toothpaste. Once a week, I was allowed to go to the bathroom and, after taking a shower, they gave me fresh clothes. 31. The cell next to mine was my pastor’s cell, and although I could hardly hear his singing and praying, I felt very strengthened by it and joined in. In prison, I had new and beautiful experiences, in addition to the fears and psychological pressures I experienced; I had a close and pleasing relationship with God. 32. I was in solitary confinement for 18 days, and during that time I was interrogated about 15 to 16 times. When I was in the cell, I started to think and became restless. I even told myself I wished they would come and interrogate me, but when they interrogated me, they put me under such psychological pressure that I wished it would end soon. Apparently they had a good-cop, bad-cop interrogation technique. The ill-tempered interrogator would get on your nerves by insulting you, and then the good interrogator would try to calm you down, advise you, and say that his intention was to help you. 33. I was accused of evangelistic activities and of being in charge of the group in Karaj. I was by no means willing to cooperate with them or answer their questions. Once, I saw Sajjad, and he told me to write as much as I could, or everything would take longer. But I just wrote general information. For example, when they asked, “Have you been to a seminar? Who taught you? Who was your leader? Who was your worship leader?” I answered: “We went on a journey; we sang some Christian songs on the way; we all prayed, and each time one person testified about how Christ had impacted his life. Our leader was Jesus, and our teacher was the Holy Spirit.” The interrogator said: “You’re making fun of us and playing with us! I wish this camera wasn’t here, because then we could do whatever we wanted to you!” I said: “I’m not joking. You claim we are working for an organisation and trying to disrupt the security of the regime, but you know very well that we never gathered for this purpose.” 34. No matter how hard they tried to find out who had evangelised to me, I didn’t mention Sajjad’s name; I just told them different irrelevant stories. The interrogators first thought that Sajjad was the main pastor of the church, because he was involved in a lot of activities. His and Brother Sam’s interrogator was the general chief of the prison. 35. They wanted to drive a wedge between us and weaken us mentally, to make us talk. They lied and slandered our leader. They also said we had only attended the gatherings to hang out with girls. But, thank God, except for a few who had converted only a short time before, they couldn’t deceive the rest of us. 36. We were given a general note sheet for writing confessions, at the top of which was written: “Evangelical activity, action against national security.” We had to sign and fingerprint the bottom of each sheet. I was given several other sheets, on which I was told to write down information about each Christian friend I had, including their characteristics and details such as their eye colour, height, weight, etc. During my time in detention, I only wrote about myself, but in the second week they mentioned the names of Pedram, Sajjad, and a few others, and asked me if I knew them. Because we had been arrested at the same time, I answered that I did know them but gave no information about them. 37. I think that’s why they didn’t physically torture us, but we were severely tortured psychologically, and they insulted us and our families. We were asked repetitive questions that made no sense. They find your weakness and try to put pressure on you, even through phone calls – for example, they knew that my mother was upset about my condition, so they called my home and asked for my mother on purpose. When I talked to her, she was crying, and her tears made me feel bad. I started crying with her and told her not to worry about me. Relatives had gathered at our house during that time, and they were sad about my arrest. They mourned with my family, and cried. Release 38. With my arrest, my family’s reaction to me changed. I didn’t have a lawyer but my interrogator once said: “Your brother Hamid goes to the MOIS [Ministry of Intelligence] office in Shahriar every day and asks: ‘Where is my brother and what have you done to him?'”. Hamid’s wife told my mother that he couldn’t sleep at night and was constantly thinking about me and the status of my case. My older brother contacted his influential friend, and after sharing with him the matter of my arrest, he asked for his help. This acquaintance replied that in Evin Prison, all affairs, officials, and positions are secret. “A friend of mine works there,” he said, “but I don’t know what he does – if he is the guard, the cook, or the general chief! But I’ll call him and ask about your brother’s case.” 39. But miraculously, it turned out that this man’s friend was my interrogator, whose nickname was also Parsa. Before they spoke together, my interrogator had insulted me during every interrogation, but after their call, his behaviour towards me changed completely. I had always been taken for interrogations at 10 in the morning or four in the afternoon, and each time the interrogation lasted for three to four hours. But after the call, I was taken for an interrogation at one o’clock in the morning and my interrogator, Mr Parsa, told me about the call and said: “I want to help you, so you have to fill out these forms.” I had written very briefly about Christian families who had recently left Iran and about the times I went to their homes and prayed together; I had written just as much as was necessary for an interrogator to file a report. After he read my answers, he said that I had written just a lot of nonsense. 40. Finally, I told him that I wouldn’t give up on Christianity in any way. He said: “OK, but you have to make a commitment not to see any of your Christian friends after your release and not to travel with them.” I said I would never agree to that. “You are well aware that we didn’t commit any crime,” I said. “You asked us not to do any training sessions and I will obey that, but you can’t take away our natural right to visit each other. If you have problems with our gatherings at home, we will meet in the park and pray together there.” He replied: “You are very rude, and if you continue like this, I will order that they execute you!” But I refused to make or sign any such commitment. 41. After that I was taken to the “suite” [a shared cell, in which up to four prisoners are held]. There, the environment was better and cleaner; there was a toilet and a bathroom, a TV and a samovar for making tea. There were also other people I could talk with. They couldn’t believe I was in prison only because of my belief in Christianity. Twenty-one days after my arrest, during which I was only twice allowed to have a telephone conversation with my family, I was taken for a final interrogation. 42. All the other Christian detainees had had to see Islamic clerics, who came for question-and-answer sessions and tried to convert them back to Islam, while they were interviewed in front of a camera. But due to the call of my brother’s acquaintance, on the twenty-first day of my detention they just took me to a young man, who was in his thirties, and who had recently studied at the Ḥawzah Ilmiyah [Muslim seminary]. He asked me about the Quran, and Islamic laws and punishments. He was very surprised by my answers and said: “You know a lot about Islam!” 43. My bail was set at 120 million tomans [approx. $35,000], but I protested and said I couldn’t afford such an amount, so then it was changed to 70 million tomans [approx. $20,000], and, on 30 November 2015, I was released after my brother submitted the deeds to my father’s house. Between 8.30-9pm, I was taken to the entrance of the prison, where my brother Hamid and my brother-in-law were waiting for my release. My interrogator said: “Mr Parsa, are you doing well? I replied: “You’ve changed your tune! I wish you talked to me as politely as that during the interrogations!” He said: “It’s my job and I have to. Take care and listen to what we have said to you and warned you about.” 44. He told my brother: “You should sign a pledge that Ali will come to our office for an interview, in front of a camera, and that he won’t leave the country.” I promised to go for an interview whenever I was called, just so there would be no more delays to my release. After release 45. After my release, I went to the homes of Christian friends and house-church members, and we prayed together, but we didn’t have any training sessions, as we had promised. The interrogator called me four or five times after my release. But whenever he called, I gave him an excuse about being busy studying and learning for university exams, though I’m sure he knew that really I was just looking for an excuse to avoid a summons. 46. I only once went to the Shahriar MOIS office, to pick up what had been confiscated. There, my interrogator made me a strange offer: he asked me to work for them. He said: “We are aware of your financial and employment problems and know you could be a great asset for us. So go to the homes of the other members we haven’t arrested and spend time with them and pray together; then give us their names and addresses, and we’ll give you five million tomans [approx. $1,500] for a start.” In order not to create any problems, I told him to let me think about it. He agreed and asked me to be available via phone. 47. After a while, he called me and said: “We heard that you gathered in a sandwich shop and prayed together.” I said: “Thank God that this fellowship took place, but I didn’t hear about it and wasn’t there.” Later I found out that some Christians had indeed gathered in that sandwich shop and prayed together, and from this we learned that they had spies who gave them reliable information. Expulsion from university 48. When I was in prison, the interrogator had told me: “If you don’t cooperate with us, all your work opportunities and even your university education in Iran will be over.” But I hadn’t really thought the MOIS would inform the university about my arrest and security file. I had completed my diploma at another university, and at that time I was studying accounting at the Islamic Azad University of Qods City in Tehran. But due to the interference of the intelligence officials, unfortunately I wasn’t allowed to pass the six credits required to receive my final degree. Fleeing Iran 49. Although my bail was set at 70 million tomans, the value of the property document that my father deposited was more than 150 million tomans [approx. $45,000]. My father put a lot of pressure on me because of this property deed, which was in the possession of the government. And everywhere I went, one or two cars followed me, and my phone calls were tapped, which made me paranoid. Even when I went to buy new clothes, I felt like they were watching and listening to my every move. 50. I struggled with the mental pressure of it all. The most stressful moment for me was when someone knocked on the door, and I went to open it. Even if the person standing on the other side was my best friend, the experience made me feel very nervous and disorientated. Unconsciously, I would experience a déjà vu of the scene when I opened the door and agents had entered and arrested me. In the winter of 2018, I attended the trauma seminar of Article18, and I also had many counselling sessions which helped me a lot to get rid of the déjà vus that I suffered from. 51. Finally, on 20 October 2016, because of the post-prison pressure, persecution, and actions of the MOIS, I fled to Turkey. 52. After a court hearing was held, in my absence, at Branch 5 of the Public and Revolutionary Court of Shahriar, my family were called on 7 February 2017 and informed that I had been sentenced to five years’ imprisonment, to be served immediately.
Second convert released as part of Islamic Republic anniversary celebrations 20 February 2023 News A second convert serving a long prison sentence for being part of a house-church has been released as part of a wider amnesty of prisoners on the occasion of the 44th anniversary of the Islamic Republic. Hadi Rahimi, known as Moslem, was released last Wednesday, after spending more than a year in prison for “acting against national security” by “spreading ‘Zionist’ Christianity”. The 33-year-old’s release came six days after that of fellow convert Saheb Fadaie, who was also “pardoned” after nearly five years in prison on similar charges. Both men are members of the “Church of Iran” in the northern city of Rasht. Saheb was initially sentenced to 10 years in prison, later reduced to six, while Moslem received a four-year sentence. Moslem, who is a delivery driver, began his prison sentence in January of last year, after handing himself in to Tehran’s Evin Prison so the property deed submitted by a friend to secure his bail may be released. He was one of four converts to receive sentences in August 2020 of between two to five years in prison, including Moslem’s aunt Mehri, who is currently serving a two-year sentence. Each year, the Islamic Republic announces a wave of pardons to coincide with particular events – for example in October last year, when Christian converts Nasser Navard Gol-Tapeh and Fariba Dalir were pardoned on the occasion of Muhammad’s birth. However, as noted in Article18’s latest annual report, released yesterday, “such pardons, while welcome, do not address the original injustice of their sentencing, and imprisonment and the government continues to regard rights and freedoms guaranteed in international law as crimes, including the right to freely adopt a religion of one’s choice, and to manifest one’s faith in community with others”.
Rights violations against Christians in the year of the new revolution 19 February 2023 News Article18 today releases its fifth joint annual report on “Rights Violations against Christians in Iran”, with partner organisations CSW, Middle East Concern, and Open Doors International. The 25-page report is released on 19 February to coincide with the 44th anniversary of the murder of Rev Arastoo Sayyah, the first Christian killed for their faith in the Islamic Republic of Iran – just eight days after its inception. And while it is no longer common for Iranian Christians to be killed for their faith, the report shows clearly that, contrary to the claims of the Islamic Republic, there is still no religious freedom in Iran today. Instead, religious minorities including Christians – both the “recognised” Christians of Armenian and Assyrian descent, and unrecognised converts – are systematically deprived of their right to freely practise a faith of their choosing, in violation of Iran’s obligations as a signatory of the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights. In the year of the death of Mahsa Amini, when Iranians poured onto the streets to demand justice, the joint report argues that, “at their core, the ongoing protests are a cry for freedom: the freedom of the Iranian people to live in a way that corresponds with their beliefs”. And while the Iranian regime has consistently sought to play down the uprising – including by using Armenian and Assyrian leaders as their mouthpieces – both Armenian and Assyrian Christians, as well as converts, have been among those arrested for participating. Aside from the protests, 2022 was another year in which Christians continued to face harassment, arrest and imprisonment only due to the peaceful practice of their faith. At least 30 Christians endured imprisonment or exile in 2022 – the same number as 2021 – while there were more than double the number of arrests: 134 in 2022 compared to 59 in 2021. There was also a marked increase in the number of Christians detained – 61 in 2022, compared to 34 in 2021. At the end of 2022, at least 17 Christians remained in prison, serving sentences of up to 10 years on charges such as “acting against national security” and “propaganda against the regime”. For, as the report outlines, to practise a belief other than Shia Islam in the Islamic Republic of Iran is “considered a threat to the Islamic Republic and its values”. This is why, for example, two Iranian-Armenian Christians were sentenced in 2022 to 10 years in prison for holding church services in their homes. Or why a 64-year-old convert to Christianity with advanced Parkinson’s disease, and his wife, are now serving a combined 10 years in prison. These examples, and many more, are detailed in the report, a copy of which can be downloaded here.
2023 Annual Report: Rights Violations Against Christians in Iran 19 February 2023 Reports Article18 today releases its fifth joint annual report on “Rights Violations against Christians in Iran”, with partner organisations CSW, Middle East Concern, and Open Doors International. The 25-page report is released on 19 February to coincide with the 44th anniversary of the murder of Rev Arastoo Sayyah, the first Christian killed for their faith in the Islamic Republic of Iran – just eight days after its inception. And while it is no longer common for Iranian Christians to be killed for their faith, the report shows clearly that, contrary to the claims of the Islamic Republic, there is still no religious freedom in Iran today. Instead, religious minorities including Christians – both the “recognised” Christians of Armenian and Assyrian descent, and unrecognised converts – are systematically deprived of their right to freely practise a faith of their choosing, in violation of Iran’s obligations as a signatory of the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights. In the year of the death of Mahsa Amini, when Iranians poured onto the streets to demand justice, the joint report argues that, “at their core, the ongoing protests are a cry for freedom: the freedom of the Iranian people to live in a way that corresponds with their beliefs”. And while the Iranian regime has consistently sought to play down the uprising – including by using Armenian and Assyrian leaders as their mouthpieces – both Armenian and Assyrian Christians, as well as converts, have been among those arrested for participating. Aside from the protests, 2022 was another year in which Christians continued to face harassment, arrest and imprisonment only due to the peaceful practice of their faith. At least 30 Christians endured imprisonment or exile in 2022 – the same number as 2021 – while there were more than double the number of arrests: 134 in 2022 compared to 59 in 2021. There was also a marked increase in the number of Christians detained – 61 in 2022, compared to 34 in 2021. At the end of 2022, at least 17 Christians remained in prison, serving sentences of up to 10 years on charges such as “acting against national security” and “propaganda against the regime”. For, as the report outlines, to practise a belief other than Shia Islam in the Islamic Republic of Iran is “considered a threat to the Islamic Republic and its values”. This is why, for example, two Iranian-Armenian Christians were sentenced in 2022 to 10 years in prison for holding church services in their homes. Or why a 64-year-old convert to Christianity with advanced Parkinson’s disease, and his wife, are now serving a combined 10 years in prison. These examples, and many more, are detailed in the report, a copy of which can be downloaded here.
3. Solitary Confinement 18 February 2023 Notes from Prison This is the third in a series of articles by Mojtaba Hosseini, an Iranian convert to Christianity who spent more than three years in prison in the southern city of Shiraz because of his membership of a house-church. Mojtaba’s first note from prison explained his journey to faith and the first of his two subsequent arrests; his second detailed his long interrogation. In his third note, Mojtaba explains the desperation and loneliness of solitary confinement. Perhaps this has also happened to you. One night you went to bed to rest and expected a peaceful sleep, but spent the whole night in the anxiety and horror of a nightmare, then finally woke up with a restless cry. And when you realised that all your thoughts were only a nightmare, you were a thousand times grateful that none of them were real. Perhaps solitary confinement could be described as a nightmare that became my reality. In solitary confinement, there is no way forward or backward. Between those walls, every day you feel they are moving closer together, crushing you. Even trying to put those days into words, with all the emotions and pressures I felt, is as difficult for me as the days were themselves. I remember that some days I thought to myself that I’d rather endure physical torture than remain in solitary confinement – all alone, waiting in complete uncertainty, full of frustration, restlessness, nightmares, stress, anxiety, the fear of torture and feeling in danger at every moment, as well as being concerned about the safety of my house-church group and, above all, being far away from my family, and missing them. Solitary confinement is totally opposed to all that man is designed for. A person’s identity is found within society, especially during times of need, and during those days I felt more in need of my family and friends than ever before, but I wasn’t even permitted to make one phone call. Instead, I was locked inside a tiny room, with only a blanket and a pillow for sleep; no books to read, nor anything else to help me pass the time for even one minute. Not a moment’s peace All I had were my thoughts. And in such a disturbing situation, surrounded by physical threats and inhumane behaviour, it was so hard to achieve even one positive thought. I felt so lonely. The only person I saw on a daily basis was the impatient and unfriendly officer who delivered my food through the small hatch in the cell door. One of the most painful things for me was being entirely unaware of what was going on in the world outside, and how the rest of my family were doing. All I could imagine were my mother’s tears and sleepless nights, worrying about what was happening to me. At the same time, I was worried about the other church members, who were also really like family to me. I had no information about their arrests, how much they had been interrogated, or how much the officials knew about them and their activities. With these concerns ever on my mind, I struggled to find even a moment’s peace. Sometimes the pressures of uncertainty, loneliness and frustration in solitary confinement were so hard on me that I even longed to be taken for interrogation, if only to get out of my cell. But then as soon as I arrived in the stressful surroundings of the interrogation room, with its heavy atmosphere, I longed to be taken back again to my solitary cell, even though every moment there was like a nightmare to me. Back in the cell, and its suffocating environment, immediately I longed to return to the interrogation room. This emotional rollercoaster repeated itself over and over and is the reason I describe solitary confinement as a place with no way forward or back. The aim of putting people in solitary confinement – a crime against all that it is to be human – is clearly to achieve the best results in the shortest time possible. And every moment there was like a whip being struck against my mind and soul, torturing me and burning me with lashes. This psychological torture, which is far harder than physical torture, was clearly meant to break me, so that I would do all they asked of me. Writing on the wall It made my pain even greater to see the many lines scratched onto the walls of my cell by former prisoners – one line for each of the days they had spent there. I remember in my first hour of solitary confinement, when I felt like I was dying from the suffocation of the cell, seeing for the first time those lines on the wall, showing for example 30 days for one inmate, and asking myself how it was possible that someone could survive there for so long. Being there felt like being in the middle of a war, under constant bombardment. But the battle I was in wasn’t a human one; I hadn’t been imprisoned because of any crime or activity against the government, but only as a person who made the decision to follow Christ. The enmity of those who had imprisoned me wasn’t just directed at me, but at Christ and his Church, so I had to put all my trust in the one who was in control, the one who had already faced the greatest battle, such as in the garden of Gethsemane, and had emerged victorious; whose opponents had put him in chains and taken him to court, then unjustly crucified him and put him to death, but who rose victorious from the dead after three days. He was the one who was alive today and could help me through my own Gethsemane. The fight It was with this in mind that I began to fight like a soldier. In the midst of the chaos, my faith really was like a solid rock upon which I could fully rely. My weapon against anxiety and hopelessness was lifting up my eyes to him in prayer and worship, and every day I would pray the same prayer: “Oh Lord, now my hands are bound, but your hands are strong, and in secret they are working with power. Although there is a great lock on the doors here, no way is closed to you. You are the God who even makes streams in the desert. “Close the mouths of my adversaries, and destroy the plans they have against me. The rulers’ hearts are in your hands; use their decisions for the glory of your name. Whenever they sign an official document, your hands are the ones that will be in control. “Although I am weak and lonely here, you are my advocate and my redeemer. I declare that you are the true king and ruler and that I belong to you. I believe that you, living inside me, are greater than the power of this world, so I trust in you, oh living God.” This section of one of David’s prayers, from Psalm 33, was also a particular encouragement to me, not only in solitary confinement but throughout my time in prison: “The Lord brings the counsel of the nations to nothing; He makes the plans of the people of no effect. The counsel of the Lord stands forever, the plans of His heart to all generations. “Blessed is the nation whose God is the Lord, the people He has chosen as His own inheritance. The Lord looks from heaven; He sees all the sons of men. From the place of His dwelling He looks on all the inhabitants of the earth; He fashions their hearts individually; He considers all their works. “No king is saved by the multitude of an army; a mighty man is not delivered by great strength. A horse is a vain hope for safety; neither shall it deliver any by its great strength. “Behold, the eye of the Lord is upon them that fear Him, upon them that hope in His mercy; to deliver their soul from death, and to keep them alive in famine. “Our souls wait for the Lord: He is our help and our shield. For our hearts shall rejoice in Him, because we have trusted in His holy name. Let Your mercy, O Lord, be upon us, even as we hope in You.”
2. Interrogation 11 February 2023 Notes from Prison This is the second in a series of articles by Mojtaba Hosseini, an Iranian convert to Christianity who spent more than three years in prison in the southern city of Shiraz because of his membership of a house-church. Mojtaba’s first note from prison explained his journey to faith and the first of his two subsequent arrests. In his second note, Mojtaba recalls his first day in detention, including many hours of interrogation and, when he failed to provide the desired information, his transfer to solitary confinement. During the first day of my detention by the Ministry of Intelligence, in the spring of 2007, I sat facing the wall in a small cell, with my hands bound, for almost 10 hours. The blindfold that had been placed over my eyes during my arrest was still on my face, and I wasn’t allowed to remove it, nor even to move my hands. I had been led to my cell along a corridor, which was now behind me, and every time I heard footsteps I was overwhelmed with fear that someone was coming for me. At first it seemed to me that I’d been blindfolded so that I couldn’t see where I was, but over time it impacted me in a different way. I didn’t know where I was or what my crime was. Why was I being treated in such an aggressive manner? I had been blindfolded, taken to an unknown place and was unable to move at all. All these things sent a clear message: “You are weak, and completely under our control, and you can’t do anything but surrender to all our demands.” In such an intense situation, not having any news from my family – just constantly waiting and expecting something terrible to happen to me or to them – caused me to imagine every kind of horrible situation, like torture, or anything else that could threaten my life, and this created such intense anxiety within me. In such a state, all your senses are heightened and your fears are overwhelming to the point that you lose your ability to think calmly and rationally. On the other hand, my faith in Jesus Christ and what he said and promised in his Word helped me to fight against all these thoughts and feelings. He who’d released me from all spiritual and invisible prisons, which no ordinary man could do, surely had more power than those who’d bound me in this prison. I knew deep down that he was my strong king and faithful shepherd who would protect me. This faith was like a firm anchor in the storm, which I could rely on in the midst of my fears and uncertainties. During this time, prayer, worship songs and recalling verses from the Word of God, especially the Psalms, were especially helpful to me. A familiar voice As I wrestled with my thoughts, I became aware of a familiar voice from the next cell, praying with the words “Oh, heavenly father!”, and as I listened carefully, I realised it was the voice of another member of my house-church. I was so happy to hear his familiar voice, and to know I wasn’t alone, though I was also concerned that he’d been arrested too. I was especially worried when they came and took him, and I didn’t know what had happened to him. In the end I realised that a number of other members of our church were also there. The hours passed, and I heard the third Islamic prayer of the day over the speakers, so I realised it was almost eight o’clock in the evening. Apart from emotional stress, I was also experiencing physical exhaustion, having been sat on a chair for so long, unable to move. I hadn’t expected I would be made to wait for more than a few hours, and I become really upset and frustrated, wondering: “What crime have I committed that requires me to sit here, like this, for so long?” I was slowly losing hope until, finally, someone came in, took off my handcuffs, and led me to another room for my interrogation. A strange courage I was blindfolded all the time as I was taken to the corner of the room, beside the wall, and the interrogator spoke to me from behind. As soon as the interrogation began, despite all the tiredness and intense stress that I felt, a strange courage came into my heart, which was overwhelming. The interrogator pretended to be friendly and kind, acting like nothing had happened and that everything was very normal. He did it intentionally to make me think he’d help me if I answered his questions, but the only goals they really had were to collect enough information to convict me and to find out more about the other church members. He put a sheet of paper in front of me, then left. At the beginning of the interrogation, although I was so tired and under pressure, I remembered what Jesus had said in Matthew 10:17–20: “Be on your guard; you will be handed over to the local councils and flogged in the synagogues. On my account you will be brought before governors and kings, as witnesses to them and to the Gentiles. But when they arrest you, do not worry about what to say or how to say it. At that time you will be given what to say, for it will not be you speaking, but the Spirit of your Father speaking through you.” I was really encouraged, and started to rely on this in prayer: “Oh Holy Spirit, please come and speak through me and don’t let me say any words that aren’t in your will. Fill me with your wisdom.” A number of questions were written on the sheet, like “how did you come to believe in Christ?” and “what church activities were you involved in?” But I knew that, whatever I did, I shouldn’t write the truth. So to some of the questions, I wrote: “I have no answer”, and to the others I just drew a dash. After about half an hour, the interrogator came back and saw what I’d done, then smiled, put his hand on my shoulder and squeezed it. “Do you know where you are?” he asked. “No, I don’t know,” I said. “I’ve been blindfolded the whole time and I don’t know why I’m here.” He replied: “This is the Ministry of Intelligence. And, at the authority of the Supreme Leader, I can do whatever I like to you. Even take your life. Who do you think you are?” Then he put another sheet in front of me, with exactly the same questions, and said: “When I come back, I want to see some convincing answers.” But I only wrote the same things as the last time. It was about 10pm by now, and there was complete silence. After a few minutes he returned and, angry at seeing the same answers, said: “You’d better not make things worse for yourself! All your friends have done what we asked of them and they’ve gone home to their families, so why don’t you do the same?” I knew he was lying and just trying to break me. It was so late, and in that moment’s silence I’d felt a great loneliness, but also a strange sense of courage and pride, which I knew hadn’t come from myself. It was a great testimony of God’s presence in my heart. It was only two years since I’d decided to follow Jesus, and I was experiencing him in such a unique way, despite being detained and my life being in great danger. The courage I felt proved that he was alive in me. It’s very exciting when you see that you’re changing into a different person. A change of approach Suddenly another officer came and started speaking in a more friendly way, but still with indirect threats like telling me stories about what happened to people who didn’t cooperate. He was trying to instil fear within me, even with his seemingly friendly advice, but the courageous power within my heart was stronger. I knew they had no real desire to make my situation better, but even so I was tempted, under such intense pressure, to give into their demands and tell them what they wanted to hear. The previous interrogator came back and saw I’d answered again in exactly the same way. He was furious and told one of the guards: “Change his clothes and take him to solitary confinement!” So I was forced to change out of my regular clothes into prison clothes, and was led into the cell. Upon hearing the words “solitary confinement”, I was both shocked and terrified. “What crime have I committed that you would place me in solitary confinement?” I asked. But he continued to refrain from stating my crime out loud, and only said: “This is the consequence of failing to do all that we ask you. Only you have the power to determine how things will go for you from now on.” As I was being taken to solitary confinement, I felt overwhelmed, even thinking that staying for one night in that place was too difficult to comprehend as an ordinary 20-year-old. I kept thinking of my family, especially my mum, imagining how distraught she must be. But at the same time I remembered again Jesus saying that we would suffer for his sake, be put in prison and even tortured, but that he had also said in John 16:33: “I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.” I was experiencing something really unique: what I had read in the Word of God, things these were now happening in my life exactly the way Jesus had said 2,000 years before. The guard took me to a room, took my clothes and gave me a stripey grey prisoner’s uniform. Then he led me to the solitary-confinement cell. As I entered, overcome with loneliness, I burst into tears. It was a small room, 6m x 2m, with a toilet at one end. The light was on, day and night. On the metal door there was a small window through which they would pass the food. There was nothing in the room apart from a blanket and pillow. That night I could hardly sleep, and even when I drifted off I had many nightmares. In addition to the blindfold and handcuffs, experiencing that tight cell with the closed metal door made me feel completely bound, like I was sinking down into a swamp. But in that moment, I wasn’t thinking: “If there is a God, why did he let all these things happen?” In contrast, it made me consider how real my faith was. And this faith was like a strong branch from a tree above the swamp, which I could easily hold onto to prevent me from sinking. It was impossible for me to deny and forget the great work of Jesus Christ both in my own life and in my family, even for one second. I had changed into someone totally new and this was much more valuable to me than my freedom from prison. So in the midst of these troubles, this truth helped me to worship God and give thanks to him instead of complaining and doubting him because of the situation I found myself in.
#Place2Worship campaigner released after nearly five years in prison 9 February 2023 News Saheb Fadaie, with his wife Marjan and daughter Marta. An Iranian convert jailed for “acting against national security by organising house-churches and promoting ‘Zionist’ Christianity” has been “pardoned” after nearly five years in Tehran’s Evin Prison. Zaman Fadaie, who is known as Saheb, was unexpectedly released in the small hours of this morning. He then made his way home to Rasht – four hours’ drive north of Tehran – where he surprised his wife, Marjan, and their 15-year-old daughter Marta. Saheb had been in prison since July 2018, having initially been sentenced, alongside three other members of the “Church of Iran”, to 10 years in prison, followed by two years’ exile. In 2020, Saheb’s prison sentence was reduced to six years, but until today he still faced exile upon his release. Now, however, that Saheb has been “pardoned”, he should no longer have to journey into exile. It is also important to note that Saheb’s pardon constitutes an “unconditional release”. On several occasions during his imprisonment, Saheb was offered “conditional release”, contingent upon him admitting he had acted wrongly, and committing to refrain from doing so in the future. But Saheb refused to accept any limitation upon his future freedom to worship. In 2021, Saheb was one of three imprisoned converts to write an open letter, querying where they may worship upon their release, free from fear of re-arrest and imprisonment. This letter inspired the ongoing #Place2Worship campaign, which seeks an official place of worship for Christian converts and other Persian-speaking Christians. That converts to Christianity are unrecognised was highlighted when, in 2020, Saheb and another convert were flogged as part of a separate conviction for drinking wine as part of Communion. (It is illegal for Muslims to drink alcohol in Iran, but there are exemptions for recognised religious minorities, including Assyrian and Armenian Christians. Converts, however, are not recognised as Christian.) Left to right: Saheb Fadaie, Yousef Nadarkhani, Yasser Mossayebzadeh, and Youhan Omidi. Saheb is the third of the four men initially sentenced to 10 years in prison to be released, after Youhan Omidi and Yasser Mossayebzadeh. Now, only Yousef Nadarkhani, the most well-known of the quartet, remains in prison, despite the UN ruling in 2021 that his detention was “arbitrary”. Saheb’s “pardoning” was part of a wider pardoning of prisoners ahead of the 44th anniversary of the Islamic Republic. Each year, the Islamic Republic announces a wave of pardons to coincide with particular events – for example in October last year, when Christian converts Nasser Navard Gol-Tapeh and Fariba Dalir were pardoned on the occasion of Muhammad’s birth.