On September 29, 2025, a chartered flight from the United States touched down in Tehran, carrying more than a hundred Iranian deportees—among them, Christian converts, political asylum seekers, and individuals who had spent decades building lives in America. The quiet arrangement behind this rare deportation, brokered by the Trump administration and the Iranian government, sent ripples of fear through immigrant and advocacy communities, highlighting the increasingly fraught and unpredictable landscape of U.S. immigration enforcement.
According to The New York Times and corroborated by advocates like Pastor Ara Torosian, the flight included four women and a 72-year-old man who had lived in the U.S. for nearly 50 years. An estimated 15 of the deportees were Iranian Christian converts, a group that faces especially severe persecution in Iran. "Among those deported were four women and a 72-year-old man who had lived in the United States for nearly 50 years," Torosian wrote in a Facebook post, echoing the concerns of many who had followed the plight of these asylum seekers.
For months, Torosian, an Iranian-born evangelical Christian pastor, had protested the detention of his congregants, even staging a hunger strike outside the White House in July 2025. His efforts were part of a broader campaign to draw attention to the estimated 200 Iranian Christians held in ICE custody, many of whom had fled Iran seeking refuge from religious repression. "The group included an estimated 15 Iranian Christian converts, along with political and ethnic asylum seekers," Torosian added, underscoring the diversity and vulnerability of those on board.
The deportees’ journey was marked by confusion and deception. Held in Louisiana, many were told they were being transferred to another detention facility within the U.S. Instead, they were herded onto a plane that made stops in Puerto Rico and Qatar before arriving in Tehran. Several had been in the final stages of immigration court and had already received pre-approval for asylum, according to Torosian’s account.
Upon arrival in Iran, things took a darker turn. Iranian state media was waiting on the tarmac, and the deportees were lined up, searched, and had their belongings seized. Most alarming, according to Torosian’s Facebook report, was the treatment of 10-15 Christian converts. "They were forced to display their Bibles and crosses on camera while being interrogated," the report stated. The converts were then separated and coerced into making video confessions discrediting their conversions, admitting they had sought Christianity only to gain asylum, and denouncing their pastors. These staged confessions are expected to be broadcast by Iranian state television as propaganda against both Christianity and the United States.
The risks for these individuals are severe. Iran ranks in the top 10 countries for Christian persecution, according to Open Doors’ 2025 watchlist, just ahead of Afghanistan and not far behind North Korea and Yemen. While some historic churches—such as the Armenian Apostolic and Assyrian Church of the East—enjoy limited protection, Protestant and evangelical groups have no such safeguards. Christian worship in Farsi is outlawed, and conversion from Islam is punishable by fines, corporal punishment, imprisonment, or even the death penalty under Iranian law. "The unrecognized converts from Islam to Christianity bear the brunt of religious freedom violations, carried out by the government in particular and to a lesser extent by society and the converts’ families," the Open Doors report noted.
Ali Herischi, an immigration lawyer in Maryland, confirmed that two of his clients were on the flight, including a Christian convert whose name he withheld for her safety. Herischi expressed deep concern about the fate of his client, who has not been heard from since her deportation. He also highlighted a disturbing procedural risk: deportees’ possessions, including court documents and Bibles, were sent ahead of them to the Iranian government. "So in those packages, there may be a copy of their files, all sorts of documents that they had to support their immigration case. So that’s very dangerous, and there may also be Bibles," Herischi told Religion News Service. "Based on how much information [Iran] has about their immigration process and what they have been provided, they can charge them with allegations of working with a foreign government, working against national security and apostasy claims, which can be up to execution—capital punishment."
This flight was the result of a rare, previously undisclosed agreement between the U.S. and Iran. "There was no (pre-existing) deal between Iran and the U.S. to accept deportees from the U.S., and we didn’t know this deal existed," Herischi said. The secrecy surrounding the operation has only heightened anxiety among Iranians and Iranian-Americans. "We are devastated, because this is only going to increase. It’s opened the door for a huge number of deportation from the Iranian community, for those who are here for years," he added.
The deportations come at a time when the Trump administration’s immigration crackdown has left many immigrants—Iranians, Venezuelans, and others—living in fear. According to ProPublica, the administration’s Project Homecoming, launched in May 2025, promised a "safe and dignified" way out for undocumented immigrants via a new app, CBP Home. Immigrants could book free flights and receive a $1,000 exit bonus. However, for many, the reality has fallen short. Of the 25,000 departures via CBP Home by late September, just over half received DHS assistance, while the rest left on their own. Many, particularly Venezuelans, have found themselves stranded, unable to obtain necessary travel documents due to diplomatic breakdowns and worsening relations between the U.S. and their home countries.
For those like Pérez, a 25-year-old Venezuelan mother in Chicago, the promises of Project Homecoming have proven hollow. She registered multiple times for a flight home, only to be left in limbo, afraid to leave her apartment and terrified of being separated from her children. "I feel so scared, always looking around in every direction," she told ProPublica. "I was trying to leave voluntarily, like the president said."
Advocates and attorneys have raised alarms about the risks and broken promises of the administration’s approach. "If you’re going to say you’re going to do this, then you damn well better make sure that it’s truthful and that it works," said Ruben Garcia, director of Annunciation House in El Paso. The National Immigration Law Center has published guidance warning of the dangers of self-deportation via the app, including the risk of becoming ineligible for future visas.
Meanwhile, the fate of those forcibly returned to hostile regimes remains uncertain and perilous. As Torosian’s anonymous source wrote, "The world must pay attention. These refugees are not numbers. They are fathers, mothers, believers and survivors. Their forced return to Iran places them at extreme risk of imprisonment, torture and even death. Silence in the face of this injustice is complicity."
For many caught in the crosshairs of shifting immigration policy and international politics, the promise of safety and dignity remains heartbreakingly elusive.
