Nazanin Boniadi and the discipline of hope

The organiser and educator Mariame Kaba once said hope is a discipline. It’s not an emotion, it’s not optimism, it’s something one practices. It is a way of living. In an era where referendums have been rejected and war is happening overseas – as the bloodshed of civil unrest intensifies in Ukraine and now Israel-Palestine – the discipline becomes harder to maintain and hope becomes harder to hold onto. But the phrase is used frequently among activists because the alternative isn’t an option.

Nazanin Boniadi, an Iranian-born British human rights activist and actress known for her roles in the television series  Homeland and How I Met Your Mother, tells FW it’s the little moments, the small successes, that keep activists committed to the cause. “When you’re dedicated to something, every victory, no matter how rare, no matter how small, fuels you to keep going,” she says. “Every commuted death sentence, every time a political prisoner is freed, every time a family is reunited after a hostage is released and sent home, every time justice is served, however rare that is, those moments are the moments that fuel activists and give us hope.”

“I always knew growing up that, if I ever had a platform, I wanted to use my freedoms to demand and defend the freedoms of the people of Iran.”

Boniadi’s activism journey began in the womb. (“It’s sort of in my DNA,” she says.) In 1979, her mother – who was heavily pregnant at the time – would attend protests in Iran opposing the newly-forming Islamic Republic. Shortly after the Islamic Revolution occurred, Boniadi was born. She was just 20 days old when her parents gained political asylum in London. Her childhood was spent in Britain but, as an adult, Boniadi moved to the United States. She studied biology at the University of California and graduated with honours. However, it wasn’t long before she swapped a career in the sciences to become an actor. Nine months later, she landed her first role as a nurse on the soap opera General Hospital: The Night Shift. The roles continued after that in Scandal, Homeland, How I Met Your Mother and Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power. But today, as the 44-year-old speaks from her home in Orange County, in Southern California, she is not promoting a new film or television series, but instead explaining that the unification of Iran would bring peace to the Middle East.

Left: Nazanin at a protest against Islamic Republic authorities in Iran, Right: Nazanin at National Democratic Institute’s 13th annual Madeleine K. Albright Luncheon in 2018

“I always knew growing up that, if I ever had a platform, I wanted to use my freedoms to demand and defend the freedoms of the people of Iran,” Boniadi says. Over the last two decades, while building a career in Hollywood, the actress has simultaneously been fighting for a democratic Iran, one free of the Islamic Republic her pregnant mother once protested against. This advocacy has taken Boniadi to the UN Security Council, the US Senate Human Rights Caucus and British Parliament. On October 31, she will be awarded the 2023 Sydney Peace Prize for lending her voice to the #WomanLifeFreedom movement.

Last September, Jina Mahsa Amini – a 22-year-old woman from Iran’s minority Kurdish community – died in custody for allegedly violating the hijab law, which mandates women and girls cover their hair and bodies. Her death was another devastating example of the authoritarianism of the Islamic Republic and it sparked protests across the country and around the world. Protesters began using the #WomanLifeFreedom slogan and a movement was born. It led to critical action and became another small moment that has given Boniadi hope. 

“At the height of the mass protests over the past year, there was a period, where there was such incredible unity among Iranians inside and outside of Iran. All of the Iranian diaspora really connected with people inside Iran in a way that I’d never seen before in my entire lifetime,” she says. “As the saying goes, ‘The people united will never be defeated.’ I really saw that happening before my own eyes. And we really had unprecedented achievements on the global scale together.”

Some of those achievements included ousting the Islamic Republic from the Commission on the Status of Women – which is the UN’s top legislative body on women’s rights – and the UN Human Rights Council establishing a fact-finding mission to investigate human rights violations in Iran. But just six months after those “unprecedented gains”, there were setbacks again. The Islamic Republic was elected vice president of the UN General Assembly and a representative from the Islamic Republic was selected to chair the UN Human Rights Council Social Forum.

Pictured: Nazanin and Kamala Harris at the White House in 2022

“The road to freedom is very long and it’s filled with potholes,” Boniadi says. “But once you’re committed and [you’ve] come so far, you just think, ‘Am I really going to stop now? And when it’s in your DNA – like it is, in my case – there’s really no separating yourself from it. It really does become a crucial part of your own existence.

While Hollywood and activism may seem worlds apart, the central tool Hollywood directors, producers and actors lean on to tell the stories we consume is, above all, empathy. In this sense, there are parallels one can draw between art and social change and, perhaps, most importantly, the people drawn to these worlds. But I wonder whether it feels strange to dance between the two of them. Boniadi says they’re complimentary.

“As artists we’re so reliant on the freedom of expression in our work. So we inherently sort of cherish this basic human right and it’s natural for us to want to sort of defend it anywhere and wherever it’s denied,” she says. “I always say as an artist, I get to portray the human condition. Hopefully, as an activist, I get to change the human condition.”

While self-care has been co-opted by wellness brands over the past decade, it has long played a critical role in activism. As the Black writer Audre Lorde once wrote “caring for myself is not self-indulgence, but self-preservation and that is an act of political warfare.” For Boniadi, she finds respite and rejuvenation in nature, taking long meditative walks without her phone. And if she’s away for work, in a hotel room in the middle of a concrete jungle, the actress will put her devices away and simply turn her focus inward.

“What I hope most for is a representative government that is secular and democratic; where women have a seat at the table; where women can once again become judges or president or prime minister,” she says. 

“Self-care is so important,” she says. “Compassion fatigue is a real thing among caregivers, but also activists. Anytime you’re engrossed in this type of work where you’re constantly overwhelmed with cases of people being oppressed and hurt and abused, you have to take time out to take care of yourself. There’s no way you will be of any use to anyone if you don’t take that time to care for yourself.”

Left: Nazanin at the Academy Women’s Luncheon in 2022, Right: Nazanin at a protest against Islamic Republic authorities in Iran

When asked what her hope is for women and girls in Iran over the next five years, Boniadi pauses for a moment, sifting through her options. Then she responds with one word: “Everything.” This is a perfectly acceptable answer in an interview with an actress lending their voice to a particular cause. And in many interviews, with many actresses, this would be the case. But after spending time with the British-Iranian actor, it becomes clear that she is not simply lending her voice to this cause, but deeply embedded in the outcome. It’s in her DNA, after all. And with that, Boniadi continues speaking.

“What I hope most for is a representative government that is secular and democratic; where women have a seat at the table; where women can once again become judges or president or prime minister,” she says. 

“Where there is a free and fair referendum after they get rid of this bloodthirsty regime so that they can determine their own future; where women are equal to men before the law; where they no longer have to sit at the back of the bus or be segregated from men; where they get to sing and dance again and ride bicycles in the streets; where everything changes for them. 

“But with the level of courage and tenacity that I’ve witnessed for 44 years of my life — which is the entire existence of this regime occupying Iran – and especially over the past year, it’s inevitable. This is going to happen. The question is when.”