This is an ambitious and necessary work that fills a critical gap in human rights literature by examining LGBTQI+ persecution through multiple lenses: personal testimony, historical analysis, religious scholarship, legal frameworks, and therapeutic practice. The book's greatest strength lies in its refusal to approach the subject from a single disciplinary perspective, instead weaving together lived experience with rigorous documentation. It is ultimately a work of moral philosophy as much as human rights documentation—a passionate argument for radical social transformation grounded in compassion and hope.
This book examines the experiences and struggles of LGBTQI+ individuals through nine comprehensive chapters. It begins with Arghavan Shasara's personal journey of gender transition, highlighting both the oppression faced by non-heterosexual individuals and their remarkable resilience. The Arghavan’s co-author, Ezat Mossallanejaf, shares his transformation from hostility to acceptance, then analyzes how major world religions view sexual orientation and gender identity.
The book explores the historical prevalence of same-sex relationships and intersex individuals in various societies, contrasting this with their long history of persecution. It examines how religious and traditional beliefs have criminalized expressions of sexual orientation and gender identity, often through brutal practices including castration and slavery-related torture.
Later chapters analyze homophobia as part of broader systems of oppression, present case studies from the Canadian Centre for Victims of Torture (CCVT) and discuss the inadequacies of international law in protecting LGBTQI+ rights. The book concludes by tracing the LGBTQI+ emancipation movement from the 18th century to today, offering both a historical perspective and a call for holistic, community-based approaches to supporting survivors of gender-related persecution.
1. Dual Narrative Structure The decision to open with both authors' personal journeys is powerful. Arghavan's testimony of gender transition under persecution provides emotional immediacy, while Ezat's honest reflection on his transformation from "apathy to advocacy" models the kind of consciousness shift the book seeks to inspire in readers. This vulnerability establishes credibility and emotional resonance from the outset.
2. Historical Depth and the Central Paradox The book's historical scope (Chapters 3-5) is exceptional. By tracing same-sex relationships and intersex participation in political life throughout history, the authors expose the book's central "dilemma": the coexistence of widespread same-sex practices with ongoing persecution, torture, and hypocrisy. This paradox becomes the book's organizing principle, revealing homophobia as historically contingent rather than natural or inevitable.
3. Structural Analysis of Oppression The book situates LGBTQI+ persecution within a larger framework of interconnected injustices. The authors explicitly link acceptance of LGBTQI+ rights to economic prosperity, education, democracy, secularism, and women's freedom—while connecting persecution to illiteracy, philistinism, tyranny, and patriarchy. This systemic analysis elevates the work beyond single-issue advocacy to a comprehensive critique of power structures.
4. Non-Pathologizing Therapeutic Approach Chapter 7's significance becomes clearer in light of the emphasis that "community support of the LGBTI people must be devoid of any kind of pathological approach." The book makes the crucial argument that mental and physical health problems among LGBTQI+ people stem from discrimination and torture, not from their identities. This reframing has profound implications for healthcare, asylum processes, and social services.
5. Nuanced Treatment of Religion The book acknowledges that religious violence against LGBTQI+ people is scripturally grounded in most major traditions, yet also recognizes reform movements and the diversion of religions "from the teachings of their founders." Rather than simple condemnation, the book calls for philosophical enlightenment and pluralism—a more sophisticated and potentially effective approach than outright rejection of religion.
1. North-South Binary The call for "collaboration between enlightened people of the North as well as the South" risks reproducing problematic geographic binaries. Does "North" mean the Global North/West? If so, this framing may inadvertently reinforce narratives about "backward" Southern countries needing Northern enlightenment—precisely the orientalist logic the book elsewhere resists. More precise language about power, resources, and solidarity would strengthen this argument.
2. The "Radical Transformation" Question The conclusion calls for "radical reordering of society's views of reality" and "radical transformation of despotic patriarchal cultures," invoking Paula Ettelbrick's vision. Yet the book doesn't fully articulate what this transformation looks like or how to achieve it beyond "consistent efforts towards self-awareness" and creating "public awareness." The gap between the radical vision and the modest tactics may frustrate readers seeking concrete strategic guidance.
3. Limited Engagement with Critique from Within. The book doesn't substantially engage with internal debates within LGBTQI+ movements: tensions between assimilationist and liberationist approaches, conflicts over Hom nationalism, disagreements about marriage equality versus more radical restructuring of kinship, or debates about the politics of inclusion in the acronym itself. The book treats LGBTQ+ movements as relatively unified, whereas in reality there are significant internal disagreements over goals, strategies, and priorities. These omissions may reflect the authors' practitioner rather than activist positioning, but they limit the book's engagement with contemporary movement discourse.
4. The Technology Question The conclusion's optimism about how "the scientific and information revolution of today has opened new horizons" for LGBTQI+ rights deserves more critical examination. While digital organizing has enabled connection and visibility, it has also facilitated surveillance, outing, and persecution. Social media platforms have amplified both liberation and backlash. A more nuanced treatment of technology's contradictory effects would strengthen this section.
5. Insufficient Treatment of Intersectionality. While the book links LGBTQI+ persecution to other forms of oppression (racism, sexism, economic inequality), it doesn't deeply explore how these systems intersect within LGBTQI+ communities themselves. How do racism and colonialism shape queer experience? How do class dynamics affect access to transition-related healthcare? These questions of intersectionality could be more central.
1. Documentation of State-Sanctioned Torture. By centring torture explicitly in the title and throughout, the book makes an important legal and moral claim: this is not merely "discrimination" but systematic, state-sponsored violence that violates jus cogens norms. This framing has implications for asylum claims, international criminal law, and advocacy strategies.
2. The Practitioner's Perspective The book’s reflections on CCVT clients, “highly compassionate people with great moral integrity" and "unbelievable talents," provide a counter-narrative to victim-focused discourse. By emphasizing what society loses when it persecutes LGBTQI+ people, the book makes a pragmatic as well as moral argument for inclusion.
3. Witness to the "Spiral Journey" Both authors' emphasis on spiralling journeys—Arghavan's "spiralling and torturous journey from manhood to womanhood" and Ezat's path "from the realm of darkness to the territory of light"—offers a more honest model of transformation than linear progress narratives. This acknowledges setbacks, complexity, and the ongoing nature of liberation struggles.
4. The Iran-Canada Transnational Lens Both authors' connections to Iran, combined with CCVT's Canadian base, provide a unique perspective that challenges Western exceptionalism (Chapter 6 includes the United States among persecuting nations) while also avoiding cultural relativism about Iranian persecution.
5. Linking LGBTQI+ Rights to Democracy Itself The conclusion's framing of LGBTQI+ freedom as "the criterion for gauging the level of democratization in a given society" makes a bold claim with significant implications. This positions LGBTQI+ rights not as a "special interest" but as central to assessing any society's commitment to human rights and democratic governance.
6. A Holistic Model for Service Provision. For practitioners, Chapter 7's community-based holistic approach—explicitly rejecting pathologization—offers an alternative model that other torture rehabilitation centers and refugee service providers can adapt.
Critical Questions Raised
1. Who Is the Audience? The book seems to address multiple audiences simultaneously: general readers seeking education, practitioners needing guidance, scholars wanting documentation, and activists seeking historical context. While this breadth is admirable, it may mean no audience gets exactly what they need.
2. Can Transformation Happen Through Consciousness Alone? The conclusion's emphasis on "self-awareness" and "public awareness" as the primary mechanisms of change may underestimate the role of structural barriers. Can consciousness-raising overcome material incentives for persecution? What about situations where homophobia serves political functions for authoritarian regimes? The book might benefit from more attention to material and political-economic factors.
3. What About LGBTQI+ People Who Don't Seek Integration? The book's emphasis on LGBTQI+ people as "highly compassionate" with "great moral integrity" and "unbelievable talents" risks creating a politics of respectability—suggesting LGBTQI+ people deserve rights because they're exceptional rather than simply because they're human. What about queer people who are difficult, unproductive, or antisocial? The universalist human rights framework should protect everyone, not just the "talented."
Sexual Orientation and Torture is a courageous, necessary work that succeeds in making visible a crisis that too often remains hidden. Its combination of personal testimony, historical sweep, and practical experience creates a unique resource. The conclusion reveals this as ultimately a work of moral philosophy—an argument that LGBTQI+ liberation requires nothing less than "radical transformation of despotic patriarchal cultures" and the creation of a genuinely pluralistic global society.
The book's greatest achievement may be its implicit argument that LGBTQI+ persecution cannot be understood through any single lens—it requires simultaneous attention to theology, history, law, psychology, economics, and lived experience. By refusing disciplinary boundaries, Mossallanejad and Shamsara model the kind of comprehensive approach that the movement for LGBTQI+ emancipation itself requires.
However, the book's ambition occasionally exceeds its execution. At 220 pages, it cannot fully develop all the arguments it initiates. The conclusion's call for "radical transformation" deserves more concrete elaboration. The treatment of globalization, North-South dynamics, and technology could be more nuanced. And the book's sometimes liberal-reformist approach may frustrate readers seeking more radical analysis.
These limitations notwithstanding, this is pioneering work. By centring torture explicitly, combining Iranian and Canadian perspectives, grounding analysis in actual service provision to survivors, and modelling personal transformation, the book makes contributions that outweigh its shortcomings. Most importantly, it issues a moral challenge: in a world that claims to value human rights, how can we tolerate the ongoing torture of LGBTQI+ people? The book's final words—"Love will ultimately overcome hate"—function as both prophecy and demand.