Reykjavík Grapevine - 20.05.2011, Blaðsíða 6

6
The Reykjavík Grapevine
Issue 6 — 2011
DESPERATE TIMES
DESPERATE MEASURES
Kolfinna Baldvinsdóttir, LLM (international law), came upon “Iceland’s best kept secret”, Fit Hostel, in 2007. Shocked,
she commenced making a documentary about the fate of the few kept there, calling it ‘House of Hope’. She has since
relentlessly worked at reminding Icelanders about their existence, lending her voice to their fight for freedom.
Iceland | Politics
Medhi Kavyanpoor tried to set himself on fire out of frustration
“There was nothing else for me to do, I
couldn’t take it anymore”, says Iranian asy-
lum seeker Medhi Kavyanpoor (born 1958),
who for seven long years has waited for a
positive reply from Icelandic authorities re-
garding his status as a refugee. Medhi hit the
Icelandic news-sphere last week, reminding
Icelandic authorities of his existence. This
wasn’t the first time Medhi has aroused me-
dia interest, but this time Medhi engaged in a
shocking act, never attempted before in this
supposedly peaceful island. It was, quite in-
tentionally, supposed to be his last.
THE ACT
On Friday May 6, Medhi Kavyanpoor took a taxi
from his home to the headquarters of the Icelan-
dic Red Cross. Once there, he proceeded to pour
gasoline over his body. Two lighters in hand, he
threatened to set himself aflame. Asking those
present to step away from him, he headed for
the office of the sole staff member who officially
represents refugees in Iceland. As that is the only
contact person that refugees have while waiting
for answers, Medhi had some questions: “Why do
you do this to me? Give me some answers, or I'll
answer myself.”
The only answer Medhi received was the police
extinguishing him before he managed to turn the
trigger. But his mission was accomplished. This
man, so long left forgotten in the system, shook
Icelandic society. Iceland’s Minister of the Inte-
rior Ögmundur Jónasson appeared in the media
expressing sympathy for the man's desperation,
but he could though not state clearly why Medhi,
who arrived in Iceland in early 2005, was still here,
with nothing in hand, save for a couple of lighters.
Medhi's case is complicated, as is to be expected
after seven long years of waiting, stalling and legal
complication.
“My daughter turned 18-years old on April 29.
I had told her that we would finally get the chance
to meet. I haven’t seen her since she was eleven”,
Medhi explains to me, as we meet at the psychi-
atric hospital where he is being detained while his
case is examined. “I had been promised a positive
answer in January, but then, as always, months
went by and the phone never rang”.
IF YOUR LIFE DOESN’T HAVE ANY MEAN-
ING...
It was then that Medhi started making his plans.
But was his intention really to kill himself, or was
he first and foremost trying to remind society of
his existence? “You are not from a war-torn coun-
try”, he explains. “You come from a small, peaceful
country, and therefore you cannot understand, but
sometimes you simply have to stand up for your-
self. You cannot harm other people, but your own
life—well, if it doesn’t have any meaning, you better
take it. In the situation I’m in, it is my only weapon.
I don’t have anything else.”
Medhi tells me he arrived on the shores of Ice-
land with the help of a smuggler he paid to get
him out of Iran. He fled after having been impris-
oned and tortured by his government, which he
had worked for, for losing confidential documents.
He did not know where he was when the smuggler
dropped him off in Iceland. Speaking no English at
the time, he presumed he was in Canada.
For four years Medhi lived in a small room
at the Fit Hostel in Keflavík, where refugees are
kept, close to Iceland’s international airport (it
also serves as a guesthouse). At every level, his
request for asylum was refused, but since he was
from Iran, there was no way for Icelandic authori-
ties to send him back home “unless he assists Ice-
landic authorities in doing so, or agrees on being
sent back”.
Medhi's name has appeared regularly the
Icelandic media. In 2008, Medhi (who is called
‘daddy’ by other refugees at the Fit hostel) went
on a hunger strike. After 28 days of not eating, a
feat that came close to ending his life, authorities
gave in and granted him a temporary work permit.
Medhi felt almost like a free man when he could
finally move out of the hostel, find work and an
apartment of his own. Since then, he has being
living a ‘regular life’, paying his taxes, but nothing
more. For seven years he has never left the island,
not even travelled around it. A man without a ‘ken-
nitala’ is a man without rights.
THE FINAL ANSWER
In October of 2010, Medhi received his final an-
swer, from Iceland’s Supreme Court. The phone
call he craved for so long turned out to be negative
one. Medhi, who said in interviews: “I will rather
end my life here, than having it taken from me in
Iran”, went into hiding, fearing the worst.
The authorities assured him that there was no
need to panic, and offered him to apply again, this
time for a permanent residence permit based on
humanitarian grounds. Relieved, Medhi submit-
ted an application last January. Knowing about his
desperate situation, well informed about Medhi's
declared intentions, the authorities promised a
quick process. Four months later, with his daugh-
ter angry with him for not fulfilling his promise,
Medhi could not wait longer.
He had been called for an interview at the Di-
rectorate of Immigration that very Friday. “Again,
another interview, about what?” Medhi says.
“What more could they possibly want to know
about me? I have told them everything, again and
again.” According to his lawyer, Medhi's request
for asylum has been refused because he “has not
been able to prove that he was tortured in Iranian
prison,” and “he has refused to assist Icelandic au-
thorities in proving who he is.” “They have insisted
that I apply for an Iranian passport,” Medhi ex-
plains. “This I cannot do, I am on the run from Ira-
nian authorities, how can I apply for a passport?”
“WE WILL EMBRACE ALL GOOD PEOPLE”
When asked about Medhi's case in an interview,
interior minister Ögmundur Jónasson stated: We
will embrace all good people who seek our assis-
tance, I will make sure that we will stand up to our
good name of respecting people's human rights,
while of course keeping the bad people out.” He
then went on to elaborate on Iceland's reaction to
international organised crime.
Upon arrival, refugees to Iceland are often put
under the same hat as 'criminals' and treated as
such in the beginning stages. It is obvious that
because most refugees arrive with forged identity
documents, or how else are they to get out of their
native countries? Doing so, they have indeed bro-
ken the law, but the thorough screening they go
through upon arrival is to make sure that it is their
only crime. With nothing in their hands to prove
their identity, it of course takes time to investigate
each case, researching the humanitarian breach-
es the individual could face in his native country,
according to each story and its consistency—es-
pecially since there are only three lawyers work-
ing these cases. But unlike other refugees already
granted asylum (though unable to confirm their
stories), Medhi seems to have a greater burden of
proof. As he points out: “Iran is Iran, it shouldn’t
take an expert seven years to understand what
awaits me there.”
HOW WILL THEY RESPOND?
In 2008, Iceland’s right-wing government, which
had only one policy towards this “biggest problem
of the 21st century”—to keep them away—was re-
placed by Iceland’s first ever purely leftist govern-
ment. It professed a more humane approach to the
issue. Up until then, only one individual had been
granted political asylum in Iceland, while around
fifty had been granted a residence permit on hu-
manitarian grounds. Since then, the numbers have
swelled with twenty individuals granted asylum
and yet another ten given a humanitarian permit
(see www.utl.is).
However, it was only when the aforementioned
Ögmundur took over the ministry last year that
activists fighting for refugees in Iceland sighed
with relief. He had shown the issue a great deal of
interest whilst in opposition, so great hopes were
attached to his new post. One of his first tasks was
to prevent refugees being returned to Greece, fi-
nally giving in to a 2008 “request” from the United
Nations. He promised to come up with a formal
governmental policy, which has yet to be formu-
lated.
Now with the ministry preparing a revision of
refugee laws, it remains to be seen how the Ice-
landic state will respond to Medhi's desperation
and with regards to four others who are in simi-
lar positions. Will he be convicted of risking other
people's lives? Or will he be granted a permission
to stay, based on his ‘mental breakdown’?
Many questions remain unanswered, but one
thing is for sure: Medhi has cornered Icelandic au-
thorities. Giving him a positive answer now could
easily trigger others to attempt the same—those
few but desperate individuals who have nowhere
to go and yet nowhere to stay. But giving him a
negative answer will have as dramatic conse-
quences. Medhi has made up his mind. Now the
authorities have to make up theirs.
Addendum: after this article had been proofed, we learned
that Minister of Foreign Affairs Össur Skarphéðinsson had
offered asylum to an Iranian woman, Sakineh Mohammadi
Ashtiani, who faces execution in her homeland after being
convicted for adultery and murder. When we brought this
up with Medhi, he replied: "Do I have to kill somebody
then, to get a similar offer?
“My daughter turned 18-years old on April 29. I had told her that
we would finally get the chance to meet. I haven’t seen her since
she was eleven. I had been promised a positive answer in January,
but then, as always, months went by and the phone never rang”
Words
Kolfinna Baldvinsdóttir
Photo
Hörður Sveinsson
Pictured: Medhi in his room earlier this week
at the Kleppur mental asylum, where he is
currently in custody.