Iranian-Canadian journalist and social activist
Iranian-Canadian activists fought for a decade to have Canada designate the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC) as a terrorist organization, not to punish its hapless conscripts.
The long calls for listing the IRGC became too loud to ignore in 2022. Thousands of Iranians marched in Canada for weeks, denouncing the guards' brutality back home, they killed and maim to quell the uprising known by its central chant, Woman Life Freedom.
In April 2023, I helped organize Montreal’s first rally demanding the listing by the Canadian and UK governments. A year later, our efforts bore fruit with Parliament’s unanimous vote supporting the IRGC’s designation as a terrorist entity.
But the triumph that followed after the official listing yielded no solace. Within months, former conscripts were targeted. Branded as IRGC members, they saw their application for permanent residency (PR) denied. Procedural fairness letters piled up.
We had long warned about this and were assured by Canada’s government that the listing would be conducted with precision, ensuring that conscripts would not suffer.
Canada’s prime minister Justin Trudeau confirmed this publicly in a PS752 commemoration day. “We know there is more to do to hold the regime to account and we will continue our work, including continuing to look for ways to responsibly list the IRGC as a terrorist organization.”
The key word was “responsibly”. He signaled that his government understood that the designation could come with complications, particularly for conscripts, and was ready to tackle it.
That’s not how it’s turned out though. The debacle we see today is not what we fought for.
Forsaken at the edge
The listing has left countless individuals in ruins. Their accounts reveal a systemic thoughtlessness that is perpetuating this injustice.
Take Sina, a father of two, denied residency after five years of work in Canada. He was accused of being an IRGC-affiliated university lecturer during his military service. His documents, though, showed he served as a faculty member at Islamic Azad University, fulfilling mandatory service by law.
The irony is that all cards issued to conscripts completing their service in this scheme are categorized under the IRGC branch of Iran’s Military Service Organization. The IRGC’s security-oriented universities like Imam Hussain University, where real associations occur, have faculty who are career IRGC members or state affiliates, their identities largely concealed. The Canadian system, nonetheless, reduces everything to a conscription card, ignoring the realities of compulsory service.
The anatomy of compulsion
Each year, hundreds of thousands are conscripted into a mechanistic system, serving no more than two years. Assignments are normally not known in advance. A prospective conscript may be called to serve in the Army, Police, or IRGC. He would have to endure a few months of rough training followed by many more months of mundane work.
IRGC conscription—not to be mistaken with actual recruitment which leads to membership—is generally less rigorous than other military organizations, exposing the hollow grandeur ascribed to its service.
Mandatory conscription imposes duties on all conscripts, regardless of their past or branch. These typically involve administrative tasks, logistical support, or basic labor, with educated conscripts teaching or assisting in research but excluded from sensitive roles.
The banality of compulsory service is evident in the preferential treatment of those affiliated with the paramilitary Basij, who enjoy months of service reductions. Others, ordinary young men who are assigned to IRGC, are in some ways making up for the Basijis who remain fully active but in their own bases outside the conscription ecosystem.
The IRGC could never function if it relied on annual conscription or allowed the unwilling draftees to access to its modus operandi.
The importance of this fact cannot be overstated: no conscript in Iran qualifies as a member of a military organization in Iran, least of all the IRGC. Many IRGC conscripts are trained in civilian trades such as woodwork or plumbing, just as they do in the Army.
Conscription is a dated, largely unnecessary system, going back to 1925, when Iran wanted to fashion its first modern armed force. Conscripts do not join the IRGC, they are called to do their term. Conflating conscription with membership is wrong—and in Canada, at least, is destroying lives.
IRGC members arise through specialized domains, not brief, menial service often deemed the worst of youths’ lives.
The IRGC operates its own well-established, high-security universities and recruitment centers, with specialized training that prepares loyal individuals for service, be it in the Quds force, Cyber or Aerospace divisions.. To equate these members, the Sepahis, with conscripts who toil for two years to get an end-of-service card that’s required for any job, any transaction, to register marriage even, is a farce bordering on moral bankruptcy.
The Canadian government, long briefed on these matters, bears the responsibility to educate its immigration officers properly.
Guilty until proven innocent
Take another example: Alireza, whose PR application was denied because his two-year conscription with the IRGC was deemed membership. An immigration officer redefined his service as formal affiliation, claiming “membership does not have a temporal element.”
This argument, appearing in many cases, disregards the IRGC’s distinct recruitment process and its separation from mandatory military service. Even the federal court precedents referenced in refusal letters, such as Afanasyev v. Canada, 2012, are tenuous to conscription cases.
In Jalloh v. Canada, 2012, the court stated, “A person cannot be considered a member of a group when his or her involvement with it is based on duress.” That should apply to Alireza and others who had no choice but to do their time with the armed forces. Iran’s compulsory military service is by definition serving under duress.
Masoud, too, faced a refusal rooted in flawed interpretations. Despite detailing his basic training and mundane tasks like checking sign-in sheets, he received a letter that lectured him on the IRGC’s history, followed by a barrage of absurd questions: “If you are no longer involved with the IRGC, when and why did you leave?” or “Did you ever try to escape your duties?”
These betray a limited grasp of military service in Iran and severe punishments deserters face, including the loss of civil rights, acknowledged even in Canadian tribunal records.
Ironically, all those Iranians affected by the IRGC’s designation have declared their service voluntarily, while real IRGC operatives and affiliates—masters of covert operations and false identities—remain untouched. To date, no IRGC career member has been identified or penalized under current nebulous policies.
In refusal letters shared with me the individuals are accused of terrorism by a representative of the Minister of Immigration pursuant to IRPA. Shockingly, the same ministry denies targeting conscripts when speaking to Farsi-speaking outlets, cloaking itself in propaganda despite overwhelming evidence. This travesty, if deliberate, betrays any commitment to fairness and rectitude.
Trudeau’s government cannot feign ignorance of Iran’s conscription ecosystem. For years, advocates and victims laid the truth bare, only to see it dismissed. It is time to bring aspects of this truth to the forefront, demanding a fair reckoning.
The Fight for Redemption
Kaveh Shahrooz, a Canadian lawyer and advocate for listing the IRGC, likens conscripts to hostages of the regime. Freed at last, many are now finding their lives taken hostage again by their innocent past, by an immigration system that purports to be fighting their hostage-takers in Iran.
Some among the Iranian community in Canada—accused of sympathizing with the Islamic Republic—have sought to take advantage of the conscripts’ plight, demanding the removal of its terrorist designation. Former conscripts and families have condemned this move, stressing that they are “innocent individuals forcibly conscripted and enslaved by the IRGC.”
Feeling abandoned by Canada’s Liberal administration, they hope for reprieve through other legislative avenues. Bill C-350, introduced by Conservatives, serves as an example and proposes an exception for conscripts. Thousands have rallied behind it, motivated by Pierre Poilievre’s assurance of protection for those conscripted.
Resolving this issue is crucial for Canada’s standing and could set a precedent for nations like the UK and Australia. Failing to address conscripts’ suffering risks eroding diaspora support, already scarred by the IRGC’s brutality. Should this tragic course continue, there will be only one victor: the IRGC.
True accountability demands Canada hear the voices of innocent conscripts today and confront its failure with integrity and principle.
