Speaking Up for Those Left Behind - Fairfax County Native Amir Borjkhani shares his story of emigrating from Iran to America
Speaking Up for Those Left Behind
Amir Borjkhani, surviving imprisonment in Iran, settles here to start a new life.
By Maya Horowitz
Thursday, December 15, 2011
http://www.connectionnewspapers.com/article.asp?article=356743&paper=69&cat=104
Describing almost nine years of torture and imprisonment, and a lifetime of memories of "suppression, aggression, anger and dictatorship," Amir Borjkhani shares his story of emigrating from Iran to America — where he moved to the Alexandria part of Fairfax County with his wife, Samira Aramesh.
"When [people here] come across each other, they smile and they’re not aggressive towards each other. They can freely speak their thoughts. I’ve seen the same attitude in nine different states," said Borjkhani through a translator, Ali Zia, whose father knew Borjkhani in prison.
He said he enjoys the diversity of Fairfax County and the fact that the area has so much history.
"I’m happy that I’m here because the people are good people," said Borjkhani. "They are very good human beings. They are nice people. I love everyone. The only people I have a problem with is the Iranian government."
Borjkhani was born on Feb. 26, 1957 in Tehran. He had an older sister and four younger siblings. He said his father was very open-minded and democratic and his mother was very socially active. As a child, he enjoyed playing sports and reading.
"There has always been a dictatorship in my country," said Borjkhani. "Ever since I was little I had always been bothered by it."
He attended university in Tehran and studied computer science. He never finished that degree, due to his political activism, but later went back to school in economics.
Around 1978, Borjkhani became politically active because "there was a lot of class difference. There was a dictatorship. There was a lot of poverty."
During this time, Borjkhani said he was often arrested by the Savak, the intelligence service, but never thrown into jail.
One great positive that came out of this period was that Borjkhani met his wife, Samira Aramesh.
"Since I was an activist, I met her in one of the rallies," said Borjkhani. "She would go to different cities and make schools. It was out of love for the people that we met. She expressed it in her way and I expressed it in my own."
The couple was married in 1980.
AT THIS TIME, Iran was undergoing a cultural revolution. Borjkhani was active against the government, supporting Mojahedin e Khalgh (MEK or PMOI). He felt he had a target on his back.
"Khomeini issued a fatwa that said you’re subject to death if you support the MEK," said Borjkhani. "He said these people are enemies of God. He considered himself to be a representative of God."
In 1983, when he was 25 years old, Borjkhani found out that the government was looking for him and he attempted to hide.
"It was impossible for me to study when I saw all these people being tortured and executed and women being raped," said Borjkhani. "I had to put 100 percent into my cause. My wife was 100 percent supportive of this and she always has been."
But someone who had been hiding with Borjkhani was found and arrested.
"One of the people who was arrested told them where I was," said Borjkhani. "Even if they had given my name away, I wouldn’t be upset with them. There were such brutal tortures going on that it’s understandable that you would give information away. But of course, there were a lot of people who would not give away information no matter what, especially women."
The courts sentenced Borjkhani to serve nine years, to be spent in the Evin, Ghezelhesar and Gohardasht prisons.
He said the conditions were terrible with extremely cramped living spaces and only three chances to use the bathroom per day.
Borjkhani said he was tortured. Both of his shoulders were dislocated and a number of his teeth had to be pulled out without anesthesia. He said there was a thick layer of blood on the ground in the interrogation rooms and that even prisoners on death row were subject to torture.
"It wasn’t necessarily information that they were seeking," said Borjkhani. "It was your way of thinking that they were trying to beat out of you."
Despite all the hardship, there were glimmers of hope. Prisoners were split up into political and criminal sections. So Borjkhani’s cellmates were all fellow political prisoners. He made friends during the nine years he was imprisoned, many of whom he keeps in contact with to this day.
"People stay connected. It’s how they were able to survive after all these years," said Hajar Mojtahedzadeh, whose father knew Borjkhani in prison. Both of Mojtahedzadeh’s parents were executed for being members of the MEK, he said.
"It’s a very close community between families and political prisoners," said Shirin Mariman, a friend of Borjkhani who said he spent two and a half years in prison.
IN 1988, there were mass executions of political prisoners in Iran, according to Borjkhani. Each prisoner would get a 10-minute court date in front of a few clerics. They would be asked: "Do you support Khomeini?" and given their response, they would be put in a line to the left or the right, Borjkhani said.
At Borjkhani’s court date, he remained defiant. He was put in the line to be executed. While he was there, a guard went to his cell to find him for execution. The guard was told he was already in line. But Borjkhani escaped being executed because the line was too long. At 11 p.m., they stopped executing prisoners for the day and sent them back to their cells.
Because of the miscommunication with the guard who had visited his cell, Borjkhani narrowly avoided death. By the time his next court date came up, the massacre had ended.
In 1991, when Borjkhani’s nine years were up, he had to leverage a friend’s home to be allowed out of prison. He had no money of his own because the government had seized all of his assets.
When he was released, he said he was told, "Don’t think you are free now. We can kill you whenever we want to."
Borjkhani was glad to be reunited with his wife, Samira. Seven months after Borjkhani had been imprisoned, Samira had given birth to their first son, Pooya, a son who had never known his father.
"It was a new start for me because we loved each other so much," said Borjkhani. "But it was very difficult for my son, Pooya."
Borjkhani stayed in Iran for the next 19 years and had another son, Amir Basha. He said he was harassed routinely.
"For more than three years, I had to report to the government of my whereabouts once a month," said Borjkhani. "My activism was limited to looking after the families of friends in prison who had been executed — their children who wanted to get married and find jobs. When I got out of prison I felt obligated to look after them, to be their parent because I lived with their parents in prison."
He privately taught students in math, physics and Arabic, worked in a computer programming company and then finally started is own business.
At the end of 2008, he succeeded in getting his passport and took his family to Turkey. Pooya, his eldest son, had to stay in Iran because he had a wife and family. Borjkhani, Samira and Amir Basha got their green cards in Turkey and joined Borjkhani’s parents and siblings in America.
Borjkhani and his wife and son initially stayed with his family in Los Angeles. Amir Basha, Borjkhani’s son, stayed there to study while his parents moved to Alexandria.
"I live here because we have sit-ins in front of the State Department to get protection for the people in Camp Ashraf," said Borjkhani. "My family insists on me coming and living with them in California but I can’t because I have to continue my work with the State Department and President Obama. I don’t spend a lot of time in my neighborhood because I go to D.C. every day."
Neither Borjkhani nor his wife, Samira, hold jobs.
"We don’t spend a lot of money," said Borjkhani. "We’ve minimized our spending. I get support from my family. I’ve tried to adapt to living the way I do because the people of Iran live under a lot harsher situations."
The couple spends the majority of their time protesting outside of the State Department in the hopes of protecting the people of Camp Ashraf.
"Every morning I go in front of the State Department and I stay there until the evening," said Borjkhani. "Some days I go to the Congress and try to raise awareness of the issue. I go to different churches to get support to prevent massacres. Everything I do is for this camp because I want them to be safe. I chant, I hold signs, we walk, we rally, we talk to people who pass by. I do whatever I can do."
CAMP ASHRAF, in place since 1986, is home to 3,400 members of the MEK, the main opposition group to the Iranian government. It is located in Iraq, 44 miles from Iran’s western border. The residents have voluntarily given up their arms and have been granted "protected persons" status under the Fourth Geneva Convention, he said.
However, there is a growing fear that when U.S. troops withdraw from Iraq, the inhabitants of Camp Ashraf will be subject to brutal treatment. There have already been several violent incidents involving Iraqi security forces entering the camp, as recently as April 2011. One of the ways the Iraqi government justifies these incursions is by citing the fact that the MEK is on the United States’ terrorism watch list.
At the "Lives in Peril, Honor on the Line: America's Promise to Protect Camp Ashraf" symposium on Nov. 19 at the Capitol Hilton Ballroom, Tom Ridge, former Homeland Security Secretary, said this designation was a mistake. He explained that in his time as secretary, everyday he would receive a threat matrix. "Not once did I see a threat from any resident or supporter of the MEK."
"It’s defamation to call innocent people who have been disarmed in a camp terrorists," said Patrick Kennedy, former member of the House of Representatives from Rhode Island, who also participated in the symposium. "They are our friends. They are the friends of the world."
Many former political prisoners from Iran have fled to Ashraf. Borjkhani has a personal connection to numerous residents there.
"We are basically here [in D.C.] for a regime change in Iran, a democratic Iran, a liberated, free Iran," said Zia. "It’s the cause that brings us together."
"This is the subject that brings all of us together," said Parvin Bassiri, a close friend of Borjkhani. "It’s a big issue for all of us that’s related to freedom in Iran."
"Right now I only have one issue, one pain and that’s to protect my friends," said Borjkhani. "They are very good people."
In what little spare time he has, Borjkhani reads, listens to music and learns English. He said he enjoys reading about history and economics because he wants to learn about different belief systems.
"I don’t discriminate against other religions," said Borjkhani. "I was born in a Muslim family. I do pray myself as well. But I believe that praying is just another way to express your love towards the people through God."
He said he can’t live without music and he enjoys classical such as Bach and Mozart, and traditional Persian music.
"He always has a smile on, so does my father and everyone else," said Zia. "They do this out of love. At the end of the day, in their heart, they feel that comfort that they’re doing something for humanity. That’s what motivates me, to see the smiles on their faces."
"The one thing that keeps us sturdy is love," said Borjkhani. "If what you’re doing is out of love and the fact that I love to see freedom in my country. I just want to see the young people in my country all jolly and happy and to see the younger women don’t get lashes because of showing some hair. I want to see everybody happy. I want everybody to be able to express their thoughts and feelings and for everybody to believe in what they want to believe in terms of religion. I want people to wear what they want to wear. And I really do believe that our people are going to be victorious."
Amir Borjkhani and his parents in Santa Monica, California
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