Artist and refugee Mostafa Azimitabar on painting from a hostile country
Jul 12, 2024 •
When Mostafa Azimitabar was imprisoned on Manus Island, he took up painting using the only supplies available to him – coffee and a toothbrush. Mostafa survived the brutality of Australia’s asylum seeker detention system for more than eight years.
Freed in 2021, he now lives in Sydney. But he paints from the edges of a country whose systems remain hostile towards him, as he navigates temporary visas with no stability, at constant risk of deportation.
Artist and refugee Mostafa Azimitabar on painting from a hostile country
1290 • Jul 12, 2024
Artist and refugee Mostafa Azimitabar on painting from a hostile country
MOZ:
I started painting when I was in Manus detention centre. I was 27 when I was exiled to Manus Island and I started painting when I was 28. And I was not a painter.
RICK:
When Mostafa Azimitabar, or Moz for short, was imprisoned on Manus Island, he was overcome with a new and urgent desire to paint so he asked security for some art supplies. They said no.
MOZ:
They made me really upset. And when I got back to the tent that I lived, I remember there was a cup of coffee. Just horrible coffee, the worst coffee in the world, instant coffee.
RICK:
It was probably Nescafé or something.
MOZ:
I don't want to advertise the brand.
RICK:
And sitting right by that cup of coffee? A toothbrush.
MOZ:
And suddenly I put the toothbrush in the coffee, and then I drag it in on a piece of paper. That was the moment that made me smile. And I just repeated some words like, this is a mountain. Like a five year old kid. This is the sea, this is the sun. Yeah, that was a very important moment in my life. If it didn't happen, I believe I wouldn't be a painter.
[Theme Music Starts]
RICK:
From Schwartz Media, I’m Rick Morton. This is 7am.
Mostafa Azimitabar survived the brutality of more than 8 years in Australia’s asylum-seeker detention system.
His art, which started as an outlet and distraction while locked up, has now been chosen for the prestigious Archibald prize for the second time.
But Moz is only a pale version of free. He still paints from the edges of a country whose systems remain hostile towards him, as he navigates temporary visas with no stability, is warned not to make long-term plans and is at constant risk of deportation.
Today, Mostafa Azimitabar on how his art is a testimony to his suffering and the one thing authorities could never take away from him.
That’s after the break. It’s Friday July 12
[Theme Music Ends]
[Advertisement]
RICK:
Tell me about growing up, you know, in Kurdistan, in modern day Iran, where you were born in 1986. Why did you decide to leave and what was that journey like?
MOZ:
I mean, I was grew up in war. My city was bombed for eight years. I lost my brother, was martyred in war. He was only 15 years old. You know, my family were tortured a lot. My parents had massive difficulties when they were in their childhood and then when they were young. A lot of horrible things happened to Kurdish people in the Middle East.
Audio excerpt — BBC:
“Iran has sharply stepped up its use of public executions, according to Amnesty International. Floggings and an increased number of amputations were carried out it claims, also condemning arrests of opposition activists.”
MOZ:
I was eight year old when I, the first time I saw, the government hung up people with a crane. And I was a kid, I thought that it was like a doll. And people around me said “no, it's not a doll, it's human”. And I said, “but it's not moving, it's not shaking”. And they said, “it's because it's dead”.
RICK:
Moz didn’t need adults to tell him this was wrong. It hardly seemed to him to be a controversial point, that no government should hang its people from machinery, or at all. And so he grew, he learned to speak, really speak.
MOZ:
Silence is like a stamp on this cruelty. And I became noisy, a bit.
Audio excerpt — Protesters (chant - call):
“We want democracy!”
Audio excerpt — Protesters (chant - response):
“In Iran, in Iran!”
Audio excerpt — Protesters (chant - call):
“We want democracy!”
Audio excerpt — Protesters (chant - response):
“In Iran, in Iran!”
Audio excerpt — Protesters (chant - call):
“We want justice…”
MOZ:
I talk about it, and my parents didn't like that. Like “you are making trouble”. I said, “I don't want to make trouble. I am telling the truth.”
RICK:
Moz learned to speak the truth, even when the consequences were severe. Fearing retribution for himself or for his family, he eventually fled. In Indonesia, he boarded a boat to Australia. The smugglers told him it would be a quick 15 hour trip over the sea. That was a lie. The journey took about 4 days. He’s amazed he even survived. Of course there were worse terrors than the open water – psychological ones – and they were waiting for Moz when he and the others arrived.
MOZ:
It was 25th of July, 2013. And Kevin Rudd was the Prime Minister and he made an announcement on 19th of July.
Audio excerpt — Kevin Rudd:
“Any asylum seekers who arrive in Australia by boat will have no chance of being settled in Australia as refugees.”
MOZ:
And I was on the boat that time.
RICK:
Yeah, you couldn't have known. Do you remember when you found out that he’d said that?
MOZ:
When we arrived. When they brought us to Christmas Island, the first day they announced that they will be transferred to detention centre in Manus. And we said, “where is Manus?” And they said, “it's Papua New Guinea. It’s a different country”. And they grabbed each one of us and they forcibly took us to the plane, one by one.
RICK:
How long were you in offshore detention on Manus Island Moz?
MOZ:
Six years, six and a half years. So there were four compounds on Manus: Foxtrot, Oscar, Mike and Delta. And Oscar compound, everything was white.
T-shirt, plates, I mean the plastic disposable plates, fork, spoon, the reflection of the sun was white. And during night time, the lights completely white. And I learned that this is white torture.
And the only thing that was not white, it was the security's clothes. You know, the fences around us, handcuffs, guns, chain, padlocks.
RICK:
A painter sees in light, but in these conditions it had turned against him. White light, and then white noise.
MOZ:
I can describe it minute by minute. The noise of radios, the noise of generators and the sounds of ABF. They came to detention twice or three times a week.
Scott Morrison, when he was the Minister of Immigration, came to Manus detention centre, and he came to Oscar compound as well. And he said...
Audio excerpt — Scott Morrison:
“You will not be resettled in Australia. You will never live in Australia.”
MOZ:
You know, refugees started protesting and they killed my friend Reza Bharati in detention. Also, 12 other refugees in Manus and Nauru.
RICK:
This wasn’t purgatory, it was hell. And as bodies and minds broke, Moz became sicker and sicker. He developed asthma, and by 2019 he struggled desperately to breathe.
MOZ:
I was really unwell, really unwell and my medevac application was approved. So they brought me to Australia, legally, for medical treatment. They took us to a bus, and then took us to Mantra Hotel prison. The first day it was night time, I remember. I shared a room with two other refugees. Next day when I woke up, then I realised, like, it's a prison. There is no, like I want to go outside, nothing. You are not allowed. Is there any way I can have fresh air? There was no space. Even the window in the Mantra Hotel prison, it was like ten centimetres we could open the window. And they checked the rooms ten times a day, at least ten times a day. Like every day, 6 o'clock in the morning they started checking the room, 6 o’clock in the morning. They opened the door, they came inside the room. They are squeezing my body so intense and they say “it's the process, we want to check there is nothing behind your clothes” or, you know, they just... over 400 times they check all my body.
RICK:
It’s an invasion of your space.
MOZ:
Like that moment, if anyone touch me, like for example a security or police, then my brain just... the alarm turns on like something is going to happen.
RICK:
This was the pattern of Moz’s life, both monotonous and terrifying. Day in, day out and then, finally, in January 2021, as arbitrarily as he had been detained, Moz was freed along with 68 other detainees.
MOZ:
When I get out of detention, I could see hundreds of people outside. They were waving at us, you know, that was the most beautiful time. And next day, I lived in Eltham in Melbourne with a wonderful family, Fiona and Steve, and they live in a very big house. Kangaroos came inside the house. Imagine, beautiful. It is heaven. I wanted to die from happiness. How it is possible? And a day after, Jimmy Barnes' family invited me to their concert. Oh my god, like Jimmy hugged me in front of 30,000 people. Like for five minutes, like I just felt like, ‘they are real!’
RICK:
Coming up after the break – out of detention, but not truly free.
[Advertisement]
Audio excerpt — The Project Host:
“Refugee Moz Azimitabar’s court case against the government is now underway. Moz alleges his 15 months of hotel detention in Melbourne was unlawful, arguing the immigration minister’s written approval wasn’t given for the specific venues.”
RICK:
You took the government to court didn’t you Moz?
MOZ:
Yes.
RICK:
…to try and argue that your human rights had been breached. You are a refugee?
MOZ:
Yep.
RICK:
You have been found to have been a refugee?
MOZ:
Yep.
RICK:
You went through all of this. And what did they tell you?
MOZ:
So when I was in the court; when I sued the government. And in federal court, and in full federal court, all the judges said that the minister has the power to do this. Yeah, this is Australia.
RICK:
So the court found that even though, in Justice Bernard Murphy’s words, hotel detention quote “lacked ordinary human decency”, it was technically not against the law. This meant no compensation for Moz and the other detainees and nothing stopping the government from using hotel detention again and again in the future. It was a huge loss.
Audio excerpt — Moz:
“Well, today, I heard something that from my perspective, I need to process it.”
RICK:
Standing outside the court, Moz said his fight wasn’t over. He had learned to use his voice halfway across the world and he was not done speaking.
Audio excerpt — Moz:
“Things in law happen that need to be changed. And I obviously continue my fight with your amazing support.”
RICK:
Moz launched an appeal but in April, the Federal Court upheld their ruling. And now, Moz is out of detention, living, working in Sydney, jogging around the harbour and catching up with friends, just like anyone else. But he’s not like anyone else, he’s still not technically free.
He, like a lot of people who sought asylum by boat, is on what’s called a bridging visa E.
There are still almost 10,000 people who arrived in Australia by boat on these temporary visas with no automatic rights to work or study and very little support.
RICK:
You're on a bridging visa. It has to get renewed, what, every six months?
MOZ:
Every six months. I got the new visa last week.
RICK:
And it's six months, essentially, as you understand it, for the rest of your life?
MOZ:
Yeah, I cannot study, I cannot get a qualification. And they ask a lot of questions, “okay, have you thought about going to another country?” Like, “if you want to go to another country, call us as soon as possible.” They don't want to give you hope. Like, there is no hope. You know, they told the person, like, “if you want to talk to these refugees, you should break them.” Like “kill the hope, so that they leave Australia”.
RICK:
Still in limbo, one of Moz’s friends, artist Angus McDonald, pitched him an idea.
MOZ:
Come and paint yourself in my studio. And he has a beautiful studio. And, like, he didn't ask, like, come and paint myself. He said, come and paint yourself. That was amazing. Like, he gave me hope. Like, it's about you, it's not about me. That was really good. And I said, “I haven't painted myself in a big canvas, on a big canvas”. And he said, “don't worry, I will provide the art supplies for you”. And when I talk to him, I said, “I'm going to paint myself with coffee and toothbrush”. He loved it. He said, “this is going to be great”. And he, yeah, he took it to framing shop, he transferred it to the art gallery and then one day, someone called me that you have been selected as Archibald Prize finalist. Wow, you know.
RICK:
Wow.
MOZ:
Just first time in my life I submitted an artwork to a prize.
RICK:
That's so cool, that's so cool.
MOZ:
So this time I painted Angus McDonald just to appreciate him. And I have made it all with marks. I didn't want to hide the marks anymore. Like, now I learn not to remove the marks. Just keep the mark. Whatever happens, just I'm going to keep it. And it grows, it's getting much better. I can see when I look at my paintings, my eyes goes everywhere on the canvas. Like, that's the way I just enjoy it. Like, all the colours, left to right, up, down, like a harmony. Like it works together.
RICK:
Mostafa Azimitabar, that is the perfect way to end this. Thank you so much for sharing your truth and your story with us.
MOZ:
My pleasure, thanks for having me.
RICK:
I mean, none of this is really funny, but like, what's funny to me is that there are so many people in Australia who would love to be hugged by Jimmy Barnes and then here you are, after going through everything you've been through.
MOZ:
Yeah, I mean, Jimmy Barnes' family gave me a guitar when I was in the hotel prisons. That was very big, I tell you. When the guitar came inside detention, the security, like the officers, “no…” And I said, “do not touch this. This guitar is very, if you, I will sue you if you touch this”. Like what's happened? We didn't have this before.
[Theme Music Starts]
RICK:
Also in the news...
The Australian Bureau of Statistics has recorded a decrease in job mobility for the first time in three years, with commentators blaming interest rates and rising costs.
The data also found many Australians worked part-time hours, despite wanting full time work.
And,
A new species of dinosaur, which roamed the Isle of Wight more than 120 million years ago, has been discovered.
The plant-eating Comptonatus chasei, named after the late fossil hunter Nick Chase, weighed as much as an elephant.
7am is a daily show from Schwartz Media and The Saturday Paper.
It’s produced by Kara Jensen-Mackinnon, Cheyne Anderson and Zoltan Fesco.
Our senior producer is Chris Dengate. Our technical producer is Atticus Bastow.
Sarah McVeigh is our head of audio and Erik Jensen our editor-in-chief.
Mixing by Travis Evans, Atticus Bastow, and Zoltan Fesco.
Our theme music is by Ned Beckley and Josh Hogan of Envelope Audio.
It’s been a privilege hosting this show but your regular host Ruby Jones and familiar voice Daniel James, will be taking over as co-hosts next week. Thank you so much for listening.
[Theme Music Ends]
When Mostafa Azimitabar was imprisoned on Manus Island, he was overcome with a desire to paint.
With no art supplies, he used a toothbrush – a technique he continues with to this day.
Mostafa survived the brutality of Australia’s asylum seeker detention system for more than eight years. Freed in 2021, he now lives in Sydney.
His art has been shortlisted for the Archibald prize twice. But he paints from the edges of a country whose systems remain hostile towards him, as he navigates temporary visas with no stability, at constant risk of deportation.
Today, artist and refugee Mostafa Azimitabar on how his work is a testimony to his suffering and the one thing authorities can never take from him.
Guest: Artist and refugee, Mostafa Azimitabar.
7am is a daily show from Schwartz Media and The Saturday Paper.
It’s produced by Kara Jensen-Mackinnon, Cheyne Anderson and Zoltan Fesco.
Our senior producer is Chris Dengate. Our technical producer is Atticus Bastow.
Sarah McVeigh is our head of audio. Erik Jensen is our editor-in-chief.
Mixing by Travis Evans and Atticus Bastow.
Our theme music is by Ned Beckley and Josh Hogan of Envelope Audio.
More episodes from Mostafa Azimitabar