Brigade General Jalilian Arrived in Canada on a Tourist Visa, Acquired a Work Permit
Zohreh was standing in line with her friend at Thomas Haas, a chic, quaint café in North Vancouver, when the sound of a man speaking Persian on his phone behind her threw her mind back to a dark past. She could no longer hear her friend’s words. It was the Brigade General’s voice; their neighbor from years ago in Babol. She could never forget his face in that Pasdaran(IRGC) uniform. She remembered the bitter days of her childhood in November 1986. Just days after the schools reopened, her aunt had been arrested and taken away by the Pasdaran(IRGC). Her parents, who always held Zohreh’s hand tightly, and her elderly grandmother, had spent months pleading with the Brigade General and his driver, hoping he might do something for them.
Ever since then, the Brigade General’s words had been etched in her mind: “If only she weren’t a counter-revolutionary, if she were a thief or a murderer, something could have been done.” Yet, they still hoped the Brigade General would have mercy, use his influence, and save Nafiseh from execution. They had no other choice, no one else to turn to.
It was a hope that faded with each passing day and was finally extinguished months later by a phone call from Tehran’s Evin Prison: “Bring 750 tomans for the bullet and collect the body.”
“Rag-e Baboli vejir biyeh”—a local phrase meaning her Baboli blood began to boil.
She turned around in anger and looked. It was him, his face now weathered by time: Brigade General Ali-Akbar Jalilian Tabari! The old man, however, did not recognize her and continued his conversation and laughter. A young woman was with him, but it wasn’t the Brigade General’s first wife. Zohreh couldn’t bear to stay; she cried and walked out.
For days and weeks, Zohreh tried everything. She emailed everyone she could think of, hoping for a response—from the Ministry of Immigration to the Royal Canadian Mounted Police (RCMP) and the Canadian Security Intelligence Service (CSIS). She even visited the local Member of Parliament’s office. No one provided an answer as to what this IRGC Brigade General was doing in Canada.
Finally, she approached Mira Nassiri, a well-known Iranian political activist in Canada. Zohreh and Mira tried extensively, knocking on every door, but it became clear no one was going to give them an answer. They concluded that the matter had to be brought to the media.
Perhaps publishing a report could be effective. Ultimately, in complete desperation, they came to me. Although Zohreh was certain of the Brigade General’s identity, and Mira had also confirmed Jalilian’s presence in Canada through acquaintances, as a journalist, I was obligated to verify the facts. I had to be sure that this individual was indeed Ali-Akbar Jalilian Tabari. He was a commander in the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps and, most importantly, he was now in Canada.
IRGC Logistics Commander in Canada!
It was hard to believe: in 2023, at the very time when, after four years of pursuit, the case of Flight PS752 was referred to the International Court of Justice at the request of four countries, including Canada, to hold the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps officially accountable for the tragedy, a long-serving officer from this very organization had managed to obtain a Canadian tourist visa.
The further I investigated, the more my hope of it being a case of ‘mistaken identity’ faded. At first, I thought perhaps he just shared the same name. Then I considered the possibility that he might have altered part of his name or details to bypass immigration officers and security agencies. But the documents were clear: the matches were perfect, with no contradictions. It was him, Ali-Akbar Jalilian Tabari, the one his friends call ‘Brigade General Akbar,’ from Babol, that green, rainy city by the Caspian Sea.
In the early years of the war with Iraq, he was a volunteer fighter and joined the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps. After the war, he served for decades in various departments, eventually retiring as the IRGC’s Logistics Commander.
A year later, in March 2024, he obtained an Open Work Permit for an address in North York, Toronto, through the Canadian government’s ‘Temporary Special Measures’ program, which was established for Iranians following the ‘Woman, Life, Freedom’ movement.
Jalilian, who retired from the IRGC in Iran years ago, can now work in Canada using this very support measure. However, given his age, he will soon retire in this country as well—a scene that resembles a bitter irony more than anything else: ‘The retired IRGC Brigade General will retire again in Canada.’
Connections and Associates
The Account and Interview
I finally contacted him on his Iranian number via WhatsApp. He was aware that ‘an Iranian-Canadian journalist’ was looking into his case. He wanted to end the chat quickly, but he stayed and talked. He described himself as an ‘upright member of the Guards,’ said, ‘I wasn’t a Brigade General, I was a colonel,’ and claimed he did not possess much wealth.
I retired from the IRGC years ago and am now in the construction business. I did not mention my history with the IRGC on the visa application forms. I was one of those who, as a teenager at the start of the war, went to the front to defend the country. After the war, I remained in the IRGC, and my case is separate from those Brigade Generals who pocket billions.
My younger brother was a diver and was martyred on the Faw front. The current perception of the IRGC has been formed in recent years; it wasn’t like this in the early years after the revolution.
When asked about the source of his son’s wealth—a well-known influencer in Dubai who daily posts stories of multi-hundred-thousand-dollar cars and Rolex and Audemars Piguet watches—he replied: ‘It’s all fake. My son has no sense.’
Reactions
I sent the case file with detailed questions to the Canada Border Services Agency (CBSA). The response I received was nothing more than a generic public statement: ‘The same announcement from November 2022 which merely stated that some senior officials of the Islamic Republic would be barred from entering Canada.’ There was no mention of the IRGC, nor any explanation of the criteria for identification and screening. To get an independent perspective, I contacted Ramin Joubin, a human rights lawyer and the director of the Stop IRGC campaign in Vancouver. He wasn’t surprised. He said: ‘It makes little difference whether the Canadian government identified him and still issued the visa, or if our security loopholes are so large that we can’t even properly identify a retired Brigade General. Either way, it’s a disgrace.’
During this investigation, I collaborated with the OCCRP in Europe, an organization specializing in transnational corruption and influence cases. This collaboration helped to meticulously piece together visa stamps, entry and exit dates, and corporate connections, turning scattered evidence into a clear and documented picture.
Another Case: An IRGC Navy Contractor in Vancouver
In the final days of my investigation into Ali-Akbar Jalilian, while working on another report about the coherent network and organization of Meysam Shokrisaz, ‘Makan Arya Parsa,’ in using fraudulent documents to obtain Canadian visas and residency, I came across another individual in Vancouver: the owner of a company that was a contractor for the IRGC Navy. And unlike Jalilian, its owner had obtained permanent residency with the help of a forged document.
This company, “Kia Sazeh Ahvaz,” manufactures telecommunication towers. The company’s Instagram account was still publicly accessible at the time of this report’s publication, and it appears the company remains active in Iran.
I contacted Reza Soleimani, the company’s main owner, who now lives in Coquitlam, Vancouver, and is a shareholder in at least two Iranian currency exchanges. Soleimani, like Jalilian, did not deny his company’s connection to the IRGC. However, he claimed he was more of an investor than the primary operator of the company. This well-known former IRGC contractor also confirmed that he had provided the details of Kia Sazeh and its contracts when applying for his visa. According to him: ‘If there had been a problem, I wouldn’t have been able to enter Canada at all.’
Conclusion
The case of Ali-Akbar Jalilian Tabari is not just an isolated incident; it is a mirror reflecting the gaps in Canada’s immigration and security screening. When immediate support programs are implemented without stringent filters, the result is that a senior officer with a history in the IRGC—an organization recognized as a terrorist entity by Canada—can obtain not only a multiple-entry visa but also, after some time, an open work permit. The case of Reza Soleimani and his company, Kia Sazeh Ahvaz, also shows that these are not the only instances, and that former IRGC contractors have also managed to pave their way into Canada by exploiting these same loopholes. Jalilian and Soleimani are not the only ones, and perhaps more disturbingly, the entry of such individuals into Canada continues.
Bureaucracy, cumbersome regulations, and a lack of accountability from regulatory bodies in Canada are just the tip of the iceberg. Canada is a member of the Five Eyes intelligence alliance, yet evidence suggests it still lacks a specific list to screen senior officers from an organization like the IRGC, which it recognizes as a terrorist entity. In its 2024 performance report, released a few days ago, the Canadian Security Intelligence Service (CSIS) stated that it reviews the records of over two thousand individuals daily. It appears that such checks were not previously conducted for tourist and student visas and have only recently been added to its list of duties.
Whether this change in approach will actually yield results in screening in the future is a question that still has no answer. Can high-ranking figures of the Islamic Republic still come to Canada with a minor change to their first or last name? And will the country’s immigration system finally be able to identify fraudulent Iranian documents?
Click here to view the article in Gooya News.
