Ratna Omidvar: an "ordinary person, an extraordinary life"

April 2026

From Amritsar to Munich to Tehran to Toronto — and now Berlin: 
A life between displacement and determined engagement

Ratna Omidvar is quick to resist labels: Senator, activist, policy innovator, academic fellow – she has been all of this, but none quite captures her. “I’m not a professor,” she says with a laugh after she is mistakenly addressed as such. “I would describe myself more as a curious and engaged citizen”, she says. “I am not satisfied with describing and re-describing the problem. I like to imagine solutions.”

Born in India in 1949, she has navigated four countries and upheavals that would have silenced many: Aged 20, she left India to study in Munich, then married an Iranian fellow-student and moved to Iran “to stay for good” only to have to flee from the Islamic Revolution in 1981. Four decades of rebuilding her life in Canada followed, culminating in a Senate seat from 2016 to 2024. Now she returns to Germany, as a Richard von Weizsäcker Fellow specialising in migration.

“I’m a very ordinary person who has experienced an extraordinary life – with challenges, but at the same time with windows of opportunity before me that one cannot imagine”, she looks back. 

Fear and violence: Growing up with the Partition 

Long before she experienced displacement herself, Ratna Omidvar grew up in its memory. Born two years after the Partition of India and Pakistan and raised in Amritsar close to the new border, the partition – and the violence it brought – was constantly talked about in her family. Her grandfather was jailed for taking part in Gandhi’s movement. Her aunt, then a young woman, ran from a marauding gang and survived only because they merely managed to grab - and chop off - her long hair. 

“I’ve read almost every book written about the partition,” Ratna Omidvar says. “It leaves an abiding fear that this could happen again.” What has also remained is the empathy it generated: “The capacity to put myself in other people’s shoes” is what powers her as a human being and a citizen, she says: “For me, the personal has become the political.”

“Flight, freedom and redemption“: A life in three chapters

She describes her life in three chapters: flight, freedom and redemption. As a student in Munich, she fell in love with Germany: “I love the language. I love German poetry – and Bavaria is the most beautiful spot in the world!”. She also fell for Mehran, a Persian engineering student and discovered the Bavarian Alps with him. “We came down the mountain, determined to hike through the rest of their lives together”. Five years later, the two moved to Tehran. Ratna Omidvar learned Farsi, exchanged her Indian passport for Iranian citizenship and planned to stay forever. “I remember saying to my husband, we need to discover Iran slowly because we're going to live here the rest of our life”, she says and adds, with a hint of anger: “I never even went to Shiraz because I was saving it up as a special treat!”

The Islamic Revolution of 1978/79 upended her plans. At first, the couple, by now parents of a baby daughter, did not expect it to encroach on their lives. “And then we found ourselves in this mad haste of fleeing from imminent danger”. In 1981, the young family escaped from Iran through Turkey, money hidden in the tubes of the baby carrier. The experience of crossing the border cut her life into a “before” and “after”, Ratna Omidvar says. “We did not have a country and that paralysed me with fear.”

The young family went back to Germany. Friends in Munich had furnished an apartment for them. There was a crib. There were toys. “I still get emotional when I think of how much people helped us.” Six months later, Canada accepted them. 

Paying it forward: Engagement and politics with empathy

“The bridge between fear and insecurity to safety and security – that journey and what happens after is the foundation of everything I do”, Ratna Omidvar says. Starting from scratch in Canada was difficult, yet again, people helped. “I wouldn't be in this country if people hadn't taken a risk,” she explains. “I cannot pay them back. I can only pay it forward, which is what I try and do through politics, through engagement.” 

Volunteer work at a Toronto community centre set the direction for the next four decades: working with immigrants, building organisations, leading civil society efforts to improve the lives of newcomers. Ratna Omidvar went on to lead the Maytree Foundation as president, co-founded the Toronto Region Immigrant Employment Council and initiated the Global Diversity Exchange at Toronto’s Metropolitan University, all focussed on providing more equitable chances for immigrants. During the Syria crisis in 2015, she organised sponsorships for 20 refugee families. 

In 2012, now aged 63, she was made a member of the Order of Canada. In 2016, she was appointed to the Senate. She left it in 2024, at the mandatory retirement age, as one of its most recognised voices on migration, inclusion and minority rights. Her fellow senator Stan Kutcher bade her farewell: “Some human beings are safe havens. Be companions with them. Ratna, you are a safe haven.”

I want to make a significant difference — I want to see solutions implemented.

Written by Ratna Omidvar

Finding solutions: Three words that changed a law 

“I want to always be engaged and contribute. But beyond a contribution, I want to see solutions implemented”, Ratna Omidvar says. A favourite example of what she means by “solutions” is small, precise – and took five years: Canadian law allowed citizens and permanent residents to access student loans, but recognised refugees — legally accepted but often still waiting for paperwork — fell through the gap. Lost years of education were the result. Ratna Omidvar pushed for a legislative fix while running a scholarship programme to bridge the gap. 

In the end, three words were added to the existing law: “Anyone who is a Canadian citizen, permanent resident or approved refugee is able to access student loans.” Ratna Omidvar tells the story with quiet satisfaction. 

“My name means hopeful”

What keeps her going in tough times? At this question, Ratna Omidvar sighs. “The climate for refugees and immigrants has become harder …”, she says – and then stops herself. “But I’m an optimist. You know my name, Omidvar? It means hopeful.” When she married her husband, she adopted his name, contrary to Persian custom. “I just thought my husband's name was so appropriate for me that I took it”, she explains. “So, I'm hopeful. I'm hopeful that, notwithstanding all the challenges around us, that we continue to find our humanity.”