Nuns, now out of their cloisters and doing social work, are generally good judges of character and my late aunt, Sister Teresa, was no exception. Behind her quiet smile there was an iron will and a discerning eye for human quality. She often mentioned "Thomas".
He was, I gathered, an impressive young man from the Middle East whom she'd met in the course of helping immigrants to improve their English. He was having a battle with immigration, she knew, but she spoke glowingly of how he had gone ahead regardless, trained as a chef and had landed a good job in one of Auckland's top hotels.
She was quietly thrilled some years later when he was baptised in her beloved St Benedict's Church, Newton. I met him there briefly at her funeral a few years ago. I'd like to meet him again but it is not so easy. He is now in the Auckland Central Remand Prison at Mt Eden.
He has been in jail since November. I had no idea until a letter arrived the other day from one of my aunt's fellow nuns. I'd noticed the occasional item in the paper about protests outside the prison in support of an Iranian facing deportation but I hadn't known his full name, Thomas Hossein Yadegary.
He has been here 12 years now, spending $40,000 on lawyers in a so far unsuccessful effort to convince the authorities it would not be safe for him to return to Iran.
Last year, I'm told, he was badly advised to respond to an amnesty. When he reported to Immigration he was told it didn't apply to him and soon after he answered the door one morning to a man with a deportation order. Thomas was taken from his Mt Roskill flat to Mt Eden and only his refusal to put his signature on the required form keeps him in the country.
Having converted to Christianity he insists that if he goes to his Islamic homeland as an apostate he will be executed. The immigration authorities don't believe it and I am in no position to argue with them. All I know is that I wouldn't like to be the Immigration Minister if they turn out to be wrong.
Thomas (though he didn't have his Christian name then) grew up in Teheran, the son of an official in the Shah's Government. By the time he reached the age of conscription the Ayotollah was in power, the Iran-Iraq slaughter was under way and 18-year-old Hossein Yadegary was ordered to the front.
He fled home, was arrested, sent to the front, deserted again. But somehow he completed military service with a recommendation from the Martyr Foundation that gave him government work. He soon lost the job, though, because he would not participate in public prayers, wore a short-sleeved shirt at times and refused to remain unshaven for a year after the death of a loved one.
He started reading his brother's hidden political literature. Their house was searched three times in 1992 and 1993 and though nothing was found, he received a letter in August 1993 ordering him to report to the neighbourhood authority within 72 hours. That is when he fled the country.
He arrived here in October that year. Immigration officials were unimpressed by the foregoing story, as was the Refugee Status Appeals Authority.
Meanwhile, he had been taking more than English lessons at St Benedict's. He started attending religious meetings and Bible classes and in 1997 he was baptised. He filed a new application for asylum based on his new religion. He called a witness, identified as "Sister T" in the Appeals Authority's decision, who said he was one of the most devout people she had helped.
The authority did its own research and decided that Christians who had converted from Islam were in no great danger in Iran so long as they did not try to convert other Moslems. Iranian supporters of Thomas vigorously deny that and say that Iranians who convert from Islam may be turned in by their own families for execution. They say it has happened.
Whatever, Thomas has certainly had a full hearing. His case has been three times to the authority, plus a High Court judicial review, an appeal to the Remand Review Authority and an appeal from that to the High Court.
But, as so often in deportation cases, there is a larger question that cannot be considered under ordinary immigration procedures: Why go to such trouble to lose somebody who is skilled, employed, supporting himself, paying taxes and contributing to the economy?
It seems particularly senseless when you consider that right now the booming economy is running into trouble precisely because it is outgrowing its supply of skilled people. That was one of the main reasons the Reserve Bank tightened the monetary screws on Thursday. If it lets activity exceed our productive capacity, it risks inflation.
Inflation, for those too young to remember, is economic cancer. Growth with nowhere to go turns into the malignancy of rising prices that feed off themselves.
Inflation devalues cash savings and earnings and discourages investment in anything except real estate. Eventually the economy atrophies and the only thing growing vigorously is the cancer.
In an urgent attempt to increase the supply of labour and skills the Government has added to this year's quota of immigrants and wants applications dealt with more quickly. But two-thirds of the accounting year has gone and little more than half the quota has been filled.
This week the Minister of Labour and Immigration Paul Swain outlined an extraordinary campaign to urge expatriates home.
Their grandparents may even be enjoined to make direct appeals.
Why, when you are contemplating something that forlorn, would you go to the trouble and expense of deporting someone who is skilled, productive and wants so desperately to be here?
* John Roughan is a Herald assistant editor.
<EM>John Roughan</EM>: When our immigration policy seems senseless
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