CW: This article mentions torture, detention, and self-harm
For many, a toothbrush, a hot cup of coffee and a bit of chaos are essential parts of a daily morning routine. But for Mostafa ‘Moz’ Azimitabar, these everyday items became tools for creativity, used to express the trauma and turmoil he endured as a Kurdish refugee seeking asylum in Australia. After spending over 8 years in detention centres — first on Manus Island, Papua New Guinea and then two Melbourne hotels thereafter, Moz found expression in the toothbrushes and coffee he used as makeshift pens and ink instead.
Moz’s artworks have been shortlisted twice for the Archibald Prize, Australia’s most prestigious portraiture award. His first, KNS088, was a self-portrait titled after the identification number he was assigned in detention, while his second featured Angus McDonald, a dear friend, refugee advocate, and artist nominated seven times for the Archibald Prize himself. Moz has selected works displayed at the Verge Gallery as part of the gallery’s You’re Welcome? exhibition.
In conversation with the curator of the exhibition, Billy Bain, Moz spoke about his journey to freedom as an artist and refugee on Thursday, 6th March. Billy and Moz first came into contact at the Art Gallery of NSW as finalists for major prizes. Billy said that “Mum came home raving about Moz,” and after learning about his story, he knew he wanted to “champion [his resilience] in the exhibition.”
“I didn’t look at myself as an artist or have any experience with painting and drawing…I just wanted to keep myself occupied,” Moz said. He noted that detention guards did not allow detained asylum seekers to access traditional artistic materials, oil or acrylic paint, “because it might kill.”
For Moz, the refugee experience is at the crux of his pieces: “I highlight the story of refugees in every work… to show refugees can be artists as all of us can.” His technique and artistic expression are deeply reflective of his time and suffering in the detention centre. Though Moz now paints in vibrant colour, he continues to use coffee and a toothbrush in many of his works. In his words, “This is a technique that comes from suffering. I will paint with a toothbrush until I die.”
Moz is one of thousands stuck in a seemingly endless six-month cycle of visa renewal. He is allowed to work but does not have the right to study, effectively trapped in limbo without a permanent resettlement solution. His situation is indicative of a larger system failure and the complete disregard of human rights by the Australian Government and legal system.
In 2022, Moz launched legal action against the Commonwealth to challenge the Migration Act, and the legality of his detention in hotels as “alternative places of detention” (APODs). In mid-2023, the Federal court found that the process was legal and within the legislative power of the Australian Government, though wholly inhumane. Justice Bernard Murphy said, “I can only wonder at the lack of thought, indeed the lack of care and humanity, in detaining a person with psychiatric and psychological problems in the hotels for over 14 months.” Amnesty International, as well as many other Human Rights organisations, slammed the decision in the context of Australia’s carceral immigration policy.
“I sued the government because of my humanity and the right of refugees, because we were punished for six and a half years on Manus. I was transferred for medical treatment to a so-called hotel. It was a torture centre,” he said. Moz attempted to further appeal the decision to the High Court, however, it was found “insufficient to be read in the High Court.” As such, the case remains permanently closed.
Yet, immigration policy continues to descend into increasingly draconian territory. In late 2024, Labor passed the Migration Amendment Bill and Migration Amendment (Bridging Visa Conditions) Regulations, allowing the Government to enter “third country reception agreements” with other nations. The Human Rights Law Centre conceptualises this as “new ways for the government to remove people from Australia,” directly targeting those with Bridging Visas, such as Moz. It further expands ministerial power to eliminate barriers to refugee and asylum seeker removal while providing legal immunity to the immigration officials responsible. The legislation introduces severe penalties, those being up to five years imprisonment for non-citizens who fail to comply with deportation orders.
When asked about Australian politics, Moz noted the confluence of both parties that “don’t care about consequences” and only care about “driving votes and mining fear,” calling it a “competitive race to the bottom.” He isn’t afraid to challenge the system and fight for Refugee Rights, even if it means facing the very same confinements he found himself in when he first arrived in Australia 8 years ago: “I would go to detention proudly. I will go back to detention to embarrass the government.” In past, Moz has been outspoken about the process of disillusionment he felt when Labor was elected, only to double down on anti-refugee policy.
Notably, Moz stresses the ability of individuals to challenge the system: “There is democracy in this country.” He said, “Democracy helped me to be here. It shows that there is respect…we can challenge the system [by finding] each other.” To Moz, there is no room for disregarding each other or meaningful dialogue: “If one of your family members voted liberal, the best campaign is to invite everyone [to] share our stories together.” His call was strong and persistent to “let survivors share their stories” because “the power of people is much bigger than the power of politicians.”
Moz also stresses the ability of students to transcend and change these draconian policies: “You are campaigners. You shouldn’t be reduced. You should be a rebel.” He encourages all students to find and create art outside of the classroom, to move beyond theoretical conceptualisation of human rights and put course content into practice.
If nothing else, heed Moz’s advice and vote with intention in this upcoming federal election: “12,000 refugees. My life depends on this election.”
