The Bankruptcy of Pension Funds and Wage Arrears/ Sina Yousefi

HRANA– In recent decades, the country’s pension funds, especially the Civil Servants Pension Fund, the Social Security Organization, and the Armed Forces Pension Fund—have faced a deep structural crisis. This crisis stems from chronic imbalance between resources and expenditures, unprofessional policymaking, and weak corporate governance in managing these institutions. The share of public budget contributions to cover the deficits of these funds has reached a level that confirms their non-independence from the government, calling into question the fundamental principles of insurance. Alongside this, wage arrears owed to workers and employees, which lead to delays in insurance premium payments, have intensified the crisis and created a chain of deferred obligations that directly threaten the liquidity of the funds. Therefore, the current condition of the funds should be viewed not merely as a financial issue, but as a legal and institutional crisis which, if left unaddressed, could lead to the collapse of one of the key pillars of social justice and economic security.

Amid this situation, the government’s approval of the Regulation on Changing the Retirement Age and Service Record in 2025 (1404) has been introduced as a parametric reform aimed at improving the sustainability of the funds. However, the key question remains: can this measure effectively address the structural crisis, or will it merely delay the inevitable collapse?

The 2025 Retirement Age and Service Record Regulation was adopted based on Article 76 of the Civil Service Management Law and Article 111 of the Social Security Law. Its stated objective is to align retirement conditions with demographic indicators and increased life expectancy. According to the regulation, the minimum retirement age has been raised to 62 for men and 55 for women, while the required years of service have been increased to 35 and 30, respectively. In addition, the regulation includes transitional and gradual provisions to prevent a sudden shock to the labor market and obliges the government to periodically assess its economic, social, and financial impacts.

Nevertheless, from an administrative law perspective, this regulation appears to be more a product of short-term fiscal thinking than a result of comprehensive insurance-based analysis. In essence, the regulation aims to reduce the financial burden of the funds in the short term, without simultaneously addressing premium collection systems, investment efficiency, or financial transparency within the funds. In other words, the government, using administrative regulatory tools, has attempted to temporarily contain the chronic liquidity crisis of the funds by raising the retirement age, without providing a scientifically grounded justification for this decision.

In insurance and financial theory, increasing the retirement age theoretically delays pension payments and extends the period of premium contributions, thereby improving the balance between resources and expenditures in the short term. However, this effect only materializes when there is a stable flow of premium income and high formal employment rates. In today’s Iranian economy—marked by negative growth in stable employment, an increase in informal labor, and widespread evasion of insurance, raising the retirement age does not necessarily translate into higher fund revenues.

Moreover, extending the length of employment amid a stagnant labor market blocks job opportunities for younger workers and reduces employment turnover, which in the long term further weakens the financial balance of the funds. From a public law perspective, the 2025 regulation was enacted without a comprehensive research foundation or stakeholder engagement, despite the fact that such a decision should be based on practical analysis and grounded in the principles of fairness and legitimate expectations. In other words, sudden changes to retirement conditions without compensating for workers’ and employees’ acquired rights can be challenged under the general principles of administrative law and the prohibition on retroactive deprivation of vested rights.

The greatest obstacle to realizing the goals of the 2025 regulation is the widespread issue of wage arrears and the accumulated debts of employers to pension funds. When both public and private employers delay in paying their share and the workers’ share of insurance premiums, funds not only lose access to current resources but also face a growing volume of uncollectible claims in the future. Raising the retirement age in such conditions merely defers the obligations to a later time and, far from ensuring financial stability, worsens the funds’ situation by extending employment periods during which premiums are not fully paid.

Legally speaking, employers’ failure to pay insurance premiums constitutes a violation under Articles 36 and 39 of the Social Security Law and carries both civil and criminal penalties. Yet, due to significant weaknesses in enforcement and administrative oversight, these penalties have proven ineffective. Instead of adopting serious measures in this domain, the government has focused its efforts on changing the retirement age. However, without collecting wage arrears and reforming oversight structures over employers, any parametric reform will remain fruitless. In fact, the 2025 regulation, in the absence of an effective claims collection system, serves more to shift the crisis between generations than to resolve it.

Considering all the above, the 2025 Retirement Age and Service Record Regulation, while seemingly an attempt to ease the financial pressure on the funds, is in practice a delaying and unsustainable policy that postpones the crisis rather than undertaking structural reform. Real reform can only occur when the government and legislature adopt a comprehensive, insurance-based approach and implement a combination of institutional, financial, and legal reforms simultaneously, including:

1. Reforming the premium collection system and granting quasi-judicial authority to the funds to seize and recover claims from delinquent employers;

2. Establishing a transparent and public auditing system over the financial operations of the funds and requiring publication of financial statements in accordance with international standards;

3. Diversifying revenue sources through productive, non-rent-seeking investments;

4. Preserving contributors’ vested rights and designing genuinely fair and transitional arrangements;

5. Creating a complementary insurance system and separating welfare funds from insurance-based funds based on their mission and financial logic.

Ultimately, if the government seeks to address the crisis solely through administrative tools and without undertaking fundamental reforms—focusing only on increasing the retirement age—the outcome will be nothing but the erosion of public trust and the deepening of instability. The sustainability of the funds requires rule of law, transparency, and institutional accountability—not merely changing retirement parameters and numerical thresholds.


Written by Sina Yousefi
Originally published in Khat-e Solh (Peace Mark) monthly magazine on October 23, 2025.

Women Kolbars: The Burden of Poverty on Forgotten Shoulders/ Pardis Parsa

HRANA- This article, published in the peace Mark monthly, recounts the various hardships of kolbari through the voices of women kolbars. Kolbars are laborers who, out of poverty and in order to make a living, carry goods on foot across Iran’s borders, particularly along its western frontiers.

Read the full text of the article below:

Kolbari, a practice most common in the provinces of Kurdistan, Kermanshah, and West Azerbaijan, is a phenomenon tightly intertwined with structural poverty, underdevelopment, and centralized governance policies. The state, through continuous underdevelopment of non-Shia and non-Persian regions, has exacerbated this issue—particularly in the Kurdish border areas. Years of neglect, historical insecurity, and a securitized view of these regions have made sustainable investment virtually impossible. The absence of factories and manufacturing workshops, the weakness of tourism, and stagnation in agriculture have deprived locals of formal employment opportunities and driven up unemployment rates. In the absence of supportive and developmental policies, the informal economy and high-risk activities like kolbari have become the only means of survival and livelihood for thousands of border-dwelling families.

Unofficial estimates place the number of kolbars between 80,000 and 170,000. While there are no official disaggregated statistics on the exact number of women kolbars, some sources estimate it to be several thousand. Many of these women are heads of households or have husbands who are unable to provide due to illness or addiction. For these women, kolbari is the last bastion of financial independence and a means of covering their families’ most basic needs.

“Bahiyeh,” a 53-year-old woman who has been working as a kolbar for ten years, told Peace Mark Monthly Magazine:
“This is just how the world is. Some people have it easy. Others like us live hard lives and have to do kolbari to survive. My eldest son has a master’s degree and is unemployed. He doesn’t even have a penny in his pocket. His wife is educated too, but she’s also jobless. My other two sons are the same—one’s a computer engineer, the other’s got a master’s in accounting. None of them have proper jobs. What can I do? I’ve tried other things like making ‘giveh’ (traditional footwear), sewing, and knitting with yarn. But those don’t bring in money like kolbari. Without kolbari, we wouldn’t survive.”

“Golzar,” 48 years old, a widow who raised her six children alone, said:
“Nowadays, everyone’s doing kolbari to make a living. Life has gotten so expensive. Everything’s pricey. You have to go do kolbari two or three times just to buy a sack of rice. I’ve been doing this work for eleven years now.”

“Chiman,” 45, whose husband cannot work due to severe spinal disc herniation, said:
“Right now, I’m the head of the household. I’ve got three school-aged kids. We’re renting a place in Paveh, and I do kolbari in Dezavar. My daughter got divorced and came back home with a little child, and my husband has back issues. Now we’re seven people in the house. Kolbari is my main job. If I don’t do it, where would we get money to eat?”

Gender Dimensions and Discrimination

Compared to men, women kolbars are in significantly more vulnerable positions. They not only face the same physical dangers but also endure layers of cultural discrimination and pressure. In traditional and patriarchal views prevalent in some local communities, a woman’s presence in the harsh, male-dominated world of kolbari is considered inappropriate. Women who take on this work often face disdainful or pitying glances. This judgmental perspective exposes women kolbars to social isolation and intense psychological stress.

“Golchin,” a widow and kolbar for twelve years, shared:
“So many rumors have spread about us. They’d say we go to Iraq and do God-knows-what, or that we go with strange drivers. A thousand stories have been made up about us. I’ve heard them all. In the beginning, it really upset me. But now I don’t care anymore, because I know I haven’t done anything wrong. I just went, sold my goods at the Toyleh market (a village on the Iraq border), bought some items there, and brought them back to Iran to sell. I did it to raise my two kids and not have to beg anyone.”

“Golzar” also said:
“You know what the difference is between men and women doing kolbari? Men do their job and no one talks behind their backs, but with women, it’s different—especially if you’re a widow. There’s a lot of judgment about female kolbars. They say we go to Iraq and who knows what we do there. Of course, now that we’re older and have been doing this for a long time, people know us and what kind of people we are. But for young women just starting out, this issue still exists.”

The Double Burden of Gender Roles

According to gender roles defined by society, managing the household and caring for children are primarily the woman’s responsibility. For women kolbars, this means starting a “second shift” after hours of grueling physical labor in the mountains. Unlike men, who can rest after returning from kolbari, these women are expected to immediately take up cooking, cleaning, and caregiving duties without pause. This double burden intensifies their physical and mental exhaustion, leaving no room for rest or self-care.

“Roshana,” 22, who has been doing kolbari with her husband for a year and a half, said:
“House chores, cooking—it’s all on me. After we came back from kolbari, my husband would take a shower and lie down, but I had to go straight to the kitchen to make tea or cook. He never helped me. One time, I was really exhausted and his mom was with us. When we got back, I told myself I’d rest an hour before making food. But my mother-in-law criticized me so much and said I wasn’t fulfilling my duties, that I ended up dragging myself to the kitchen to cook while still worn out.”

“Maliheh,” 39, who’s been doing kolbari with her husband for two years, said:
“I do the housework, childcare, cooking, and even work in our garden. When I push myself too hard during kolbari, I can’t handle the rest. My eldest son helps me a lot, but most of the chores are on me. When I bring back heavy loads from Iraq and then come home to more work, I’m really exhausted. I can’t focus on anything—not my kids, not the house, not even the garden.”

No Physical Safety, No Peace of Mind

Treacherous mountain routes expose all kolbars to deadly risks—falling, avalanches, hypothermia, wild animals, and landmines leftover from past wars are constant threats. Violent encounters with border patrols and the risk of being shot must also be added to this list.

“Golzar” added:
“Sometimes the path we take has landmines. God has spared us so far. One time I tried to pass through Maleh Hendu but wasn’t allowed. So, I thought I’d go down from Kalle Ghani. I was about to step on a mine—only a hand’s width away. God helped me at that moment. I thought it was some metal trash. But when I looked closely, I realized it was a mine. If it had exploded, who knows what would’ve happened to me.”

“Bahiyeh” said:
“While returning with loads on our backs, suddenly patrols would show up. We had to hide behind rocks until they left. Sometimes we waited for three hours just to get back. By the time we got home, it’d be night. Sometimes we’d arrive at 2 or 3 a.m., in snowstorms even. They’ve seized or thrown away our goods too.”

“Shahin,” 31, who has been a kolbar for a year, said:
“The loads we carry are really heavy. Sometimes mine has weighed 30 or 35 kilograms. The path is so rough and steep—it’s easy to twist your ankle or fall.”

“Chiman” recalled:
“My mother used to carry kerosene in small bottles to sell in Toyleh. Sometimes it’d spill on her back and burn her skin. Her back would peel like old plastic. Carrying fuel comes with those kinds of miseries.”

The psychological toll is also crushing. Constant fear of death, worry about their children, feelings of humiliation and helplessness, and verbal and physical abuse severely threaten their mental health.

“Golchin” said:
“When I first started kolbari, my son was in first grade and my daughter was in fifth. I’d lock the door and leave them home alone. I worried the whole time—what if they get electrocuted or burn themselves? They were just little kids, but I had no choice.”


Worn-Out Bodies and Forgotten Femininity

Carrying heavy loads on rugged terrain over time causes irreparable damage to women’s spines, joints, and overall health.

“Golzar” said:
“Kolbari is hard for women. When women get older, they suffer from all kinds of pain and illnesses. I have arthritis and a herniated disc. Every night, I take painkillers just to lessen the pain in my shoulders and legs and sleep, so I can get up and go kolbari the next day.”

Kolbari doesn’t just wear down women’s bodies—it also distorts their self-image and sense of femininity. In the struggle for survival, attention to health and feminine care becomes a luxury, and the body is reduced to a tool for labor and endurance.

“Roshana” said:
“Women are better suited for administrative or official jobs. Otherwise, this kind of life wrecks everything. At my age, no other girl is doing kolbari. Among kolbars, I’m the youngest. Girls my age live in comfort, and I’m stuck in this life. The sun in the mountains ruins my skin, my body suffers, and my spirit gets crushed. When I’m out kolbari, I feel really ugly because I can’t always put on sunscreen, and the mountain sun really burns your skin.”


Accompanying Men: A Survival Strategy on the Border

Some women do kolbari alongside their husbands, brothers, or children. This is a smart survival tactic in the perilous conditions of border crossings. According to kolbars’ experiences, having a woman in the group may reduce the likelihood of violence, as border guards are generally more lenient toward women and rarely open fire on them.

“Roshana” added:
“I’ve been doing kolbari for about a year and a half, but very limited. I mostly go with my husband so he’s not alone and doesn’t get stopped by border patrol. We pretend to be checking on our garden and then sneak toward Iraq through it. My husband doesn’t let me carry heavy loads. He’s told me not to come many times, but I don’t want him going alone. I’d rather we face any danger together. If, God forbid, border patrol shoots, at least we’re together. Border guards don’t usually bother women. They rarely shoot at us. That’s why I go with him—to reduce the risk to his life. It gives me peace of mind.”

“Maliheh” said:
“My uncle was killed by a border patrol shooting. His four small children were orphaned. I’m afraid to let my husband go alone. I go with him. If a woman’s with the men, the danger is less.”

Absence of Institutional and Legal Support

Although kolbari has become a widespread feature of border economies, there is no legal framework or institutional support for kolbars. Their work is considered informal, and they are excluded from insurance, social support, or legal rights. In cases of accidents, injury, or death, no institution takes responsibility for supporting kolbars or their families. More tragically, in many cases where kolbars have been killed by border patrol fire, their families have been forced to pay for the very bullets that killed their loved ones.

“Shahin” told Peace Mark Monthly Magazine:
“Kolbari has no insurance, no future—nothing. It’s a limbo job. It’s not something you can do forever. The fear that one day you’ll fall ill or become disabled and can’t earn is always there. You have no peace of mind. If, God forbid, you get shot or step on a mine, no one will come and say, ‘Here’s a little money to cover your treatment or your life.’ The owner of the goods will just find another kolbar the next day. Even the families of kolbars who are killed or injured have to pay for the bullet that hit them. That means a family barely surviving, who’s just lost someone, now has to pay the government too.”

Kolbari, for women kolbars, is a battlefield on multiple fronts. These women are not only battling harsh nature and crushing poverty, but also cultural systems that refuse to accept their presence in this field—while simultaneously shouldering rigid gender-based responsibilities at home. What gets forgotten in all this is their physical health, human dignity, and femininity—concepts that, in the daily fight for survival, become luxuries. Survival tactics, like accompanying men to avoid being shot, are bitter proof that a woman kolbar’s gender is simultaneously her vulnerability and her shield. The story of women kolbars is not merely a tragic tale of poverty—it is an indictment of a system that has offloaded the consequences of its failures in development and social justice onto its most vulnerable citizens.


Written by Pardis Parsa
Originally published in Khat-e Solh (Peace Mark) monthly magazine on October 23, 2025.

The Psychological Impact of Witnessing Public Executions on Children and Adolescents/ Mahtab Alinejad

HRANA -On a cold winter morning, in the heavy silence of a city square, a crowd gathers to witness the public execution of a condemned individual. The murmurs of the crowd and the hurried steps of the guards ripple through the air. A 4- or 5-year-old child, puffed corn snack in hand, stands next to his mother. His eyes are fixed on the rope fastened around the prisoner’s neck, and his lips tremble. Shallow and irregular breathing, trembling hands, and a tensed body are clear signs of intense fear. This child’s brain is flooded with visual, auditory, and even olfactory stimuli—blood and metal—that can permanently alter his neural pathways. His sense of safety has been severely compromised, and his body remains in a constant state of alert, marked by involuntary physical responses such as lip tremors and muscle contraction. In his mind, the imagery of blood and violence becomes imprinted visually and emotionally. These memories, when triggered—even by unrelated stimuli—can recreate the trauma, resulting in severe anxiety.

Elsewhere in the crowd, a 13- or 14-year-old boy hides behind several adults, trying to appear calm. Yet his darting eyes, deep and occasional breaths, and muscle tension betray high anxiety. With more advanced cognitive abilities, his mind formulates profound questions about justice, life, and death. The activation of the hypothalamic–pituitary–adrenal (HPA) axis and the release of stress hormones like cortisol and adrenaline increase heart rate, sweating, and hypervigilance. His body, like that of the younger child, enters a state of persistent readiness.

This scene exemplifies the experience of children and adolescents who directly witness extreme violence—a form of exposure that can have deep psychological and neurological consequences. A 13-year-old adolescent, capable of higher-level processing, may internalize anger, fear, and anxiety while cognitively analyzing the event. His physiological reactions—such as rapid heartbeat, sweating, muscle tension, and heightened alertness—coincide with attempts to process the memory and reconcile it with concepts like justice and social norms. This ongoing struggle can lead to chronic tension and long-term damage to the nervous system.

Public executions represent an exceptionally intense experience of violence with widespread psychological and neurological effects on children and adolescents. These events are not merely legal procedures; they are emotionally and psychologically charged experiences that shape memory, emotion, and social interaction for years to come. Young children, due to the incomplete development of their prefrontal cortex and limited emotional regulation skills, are particularly vulnerable. Adolescents, with more cognitive capacity, may experience philosophical and ethical dilemmas surrounding death, justice, and human values. The activation of the central nervous system and the HPA axis increases the secretion of stress hormones, solidifying fear and memory pathways and increasing the likelihood of developing post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD).

Neurological and Psychological Mechanisms

Witnessing severe violence—especially in childhood and adolescence—activates complex brain networks responsible for emotion processing, memory, and threat response. The amygdala, a key center for processing fear and threat, becomes hyperactive in such situations. This activation prompts rapid detection of danger and immediate anxiety responses like increased heart rate, sweating, and fast breathing. In young children, these reactions are often uncontrolled and automatic, manifesting as intense fear, trembling, crying, and restlessness. Because the prefrontal cortex—which regulates emotional responses and logical decision-making—is still underdeveloped, their ability to manage such distress is limited. This makes the emotional memory of witnessing violence, especially public execution, deeply ingrained and capable of causing both short- and long-term harm.

Short-Term Effects:
Children and adolescents exposed to violence may develop acute anxiety disorders. These symptoms can include flashbacks, nightmares, insomnia, and fear of being alone. Behavioral regressions are common; younger children might revert to thumb-sucking, bedwetting, or clinginess. Adolescents often respond in more complex and socially driven ways, such as avoiding places or situations reminiscent of the trauma, becoming irritable or aggressive, or engaging in risky behavior.

Long-Term Effects:
The risk of developing PTSD increases significantly, affecting psychological functioning and impacting educational, professional, and social outcomes. A child raised amid violent imagery may struggle with concentration and learning difficulties in school. Persistent anxiety and intrusive thoughts hinder memory formation and academic performance, often continuing into university and adulthood. This limits opportunities for academic and career success and becomes apparent in professional environments.

Adults who witnessed violence as children tend to have lower tolerance for psychological stress and often avoid competitive or high-pressure environments. This avoidance can hinder professional advancement, pushing individuals toward low-interaction, low-stress jobs. Social and emotional relationships are also deeply affected. Those raised with traumatic memories often struggle with trust, forming stable relationships, and emotional regulation. Their adult relationships may be short-lived or conflict-ridden, making secure emotional bonds difficult to establish. Intergenerational effects are also significant. Parents who witnessed executions or public violence as children may struggle to provide a safe environment for their own children. These individuals may manage anger and emotional regulation poorly or inadvertently pass on their own anxiety and fear. As a result, psychological trauma perpetuates across generations. Studies show that such parents may either become overly strict to prevent danger or overly passive and unable to establish safe boundaries—both scenarios impairing a child’s healthy and supportive development.

This array of consequences shows that witnessing violence in childhood is not merely a personal experience—it has long-term, multidimensional impacts on life trajectory, education and employment opportunities, relationship quality, and even future parenting roles.

Adult Testimonies

Research shows that even after many years, memories of public executions can have a lasting psychological impact:

Elaheh, a 28-year-old woman with a degree in graphic design, witnessed a public execution at age five. She retains the memory as a vivid visual and emotional imprint, reporting ongoing anxiety and fear throughout her academic life and creative work. According to Elaheh, recalling the memory not only triggers intense emotional responses but also shapes her artistic themes and worldview.

Saman, a 30-year-old computer engineer, witnessed an execution at age 13 and still feels its effects. He describes repeated flashbacks accompanied by anxiety, anger, and irritability. In academic and professional settings, he continues to struggle with focus and avoids high-stress situations—highlighting how exposure to intense violence during childhood can permanently alter psychological and career development.

Social and Cultural Consequences

Children and adolescents exposed to violent scenes and public executions are not only at risk of personal psychological and emotional harm; broader social and cultural impacts also emerge. From a social psychology perspective, such exposure shapes their perception of justice, law, ethics, and human rights. A child who repeatedly witnesses violent deaths may come to view the world as dangerous, unjust, and threatening. Without appropriate psychological and social support, this perception can lead to distorted beliefs about justice and morality—where violence may be seen as a legitimate or natural solution.

Chronic anxiety and automatic fear responses can also reduce social participation and trust in legal or governmental institutions. Children and adolescents with these experiences may avoid group activities, social discussions, or civil protests, believing that change is beyond their control or that confronting violent power structures is too dangerous. At the macro level, this leads to a culture of distrust, isolation, and apathy toward others’ human rights.

Psychological studies also show that early exposure to violence affects modeling and social learning. A child or adolescent may replicate observed violence in the form of aggression or excessive defensiveness in interpersonal relationships. This can perpetuate a cycle of social and personal violence across generations, creating a vulnerable and anxious population that continues to experience fear and trauma in social contexts.

Culturally, in societies where public executions and organized violence are common, social acceptance of violence and erosion of human rights values can be reinforced across generations. This normalization fosters a culture of fear and general avoidance. Children raised in such environments often feel powerless to change their surroundings and distrust social justice, limiting their emotional and social development. Culturally, public executions witnessed by children foster long-term consequences: higher public anxiety, a sense of injustice, and reduced social solidarity—ultimately creating societies with fragile human relationships and limited mutual support.

In the end, the social and cultural impact of witnessing violence in childhood and adolescence extends far beyond the individual. It can shape entire generations—leading to psychological disorders, difficulties in social and emotional relationships, reduced motivation for civic participation, and even academic and professional struggles. Public executions witnessed by children are not only deeply harmful personal experiences but also social and cultural phenomena that perpetuate cycles of violence and fear in future generations.

Psychological Interventions

To reduce the psychological impact of witnessing executions—especially among children and adolescents—both immediate and long-term psychological interventions are essential.

Short-Term Interventions focus on restoring a sense of safety and emotional stability. These include creating a protected environment, offering age-appropriate explanations of the event, and ensuring the presence of a psychologist or counselor at the scene. Simplified explanations help prevent confusion and distorted perceptions of violence and justice. Psychological professionals can guide children through early emotional processing, helping to reduce acute anxiety.

Specialized Treatment includes evidence-based approaches such as Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT) and Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing (EMDR). CBT helps children and adolescents identify and reconstruct negative thought patterns and learn coping skills for managing emotions and anxiety. EMDR targets traumatic memories, reducing their emotional intensity and relieving symptoms of PTSD, such as flashbacks, nightmares, and severe anxiety responses.

Social Support plays a critical role. Families, schools, and communities must provide a violence-free and supportive environment where children feel safe, connected, and understood. Teaching coping skills—such as relaxation, controlled breathing, emotional regulation, and stress management – is crucial. Peer support groups can enhance a sense of solidarity and reduce isolation.

Long-Term Interventions should include ongoing mental health monitoring, early diagnosis of PTSD or anxiety disorders, and developmentally appropriate treatments continuing through adolescence and early adulthood. Traumatic memories can resurface over time, affecting academic performance, employment, social relationships, and parenting capacity. Educating parents and educators to recognize signs of anxiety, sleep disturbances, irritability, and attention deficits is essential. Parents must learn to create safe, nonviolent home environments and teach their children coping mechanisms to prevent the continuation of psychological harm.

In schools, educators must be aware that children who have witnessed extreme violence may face concentration issues, social anxiety, communication difficulties, and academic decline. Implementing special education and counseling programs can restore trust, enhance social empowerment, and improve academic performance. Life skills education, emotional regulation, and problem-solving training can reduce the negative impacts of violence and strengthen psychological resilience.

At the societal level, public education on the psychological effects of public executions on children and adolescents is vital. Collaboration between human rights organizations, psychologists, and media can raise awareness and promote child-protection policies, helping to break cycles of violence and long-term trauma.

In summary, effective psychological interventions must be multilayered, long-term, and holistic—providing immediate safety, professional trauma treatment, social support, coping education, and continuous mental health care. Only through such an integrated approach can the severe psychological, behavioral, and social consequences of witnessing violence be mitigated, allowing children and adolescents to pursue healthy and successful development.

Conclusion

Witnessing executions in childhood and adolescence is a deeply damaging experience with wide-ranging psychological, neurological, behavioral, and social consequences. PTSD, academic and professional challenges, relationship difficulties, and parenting struggles are among the common outcomes. The testimonies of Elaheh and Saman show that even with academic and professional success, the effects of such trauma persist and affect quality of life well into adulthood. Policymakers and society must recognize the urgent need for psychological support, prevention, and treatment for children exposed to violence. Scientific interventions, supportive families, and safe environments can reduce harm and enable survivors to live healthier, more fulfilling lives.

It is essential to understand that public executions not only violate the human rights of the condemned but also pose a serious threat to the mental health of future generations. Addressing this issue is a social and moral imperative.

References:

Attari, A. (2006). Post-traumatic stress disorder in children witnessing a public hanging in the Islamic Republic of Iran. Eastern Mediterranean Health Journal, 12(1–2), 1–9.
McIntosh, D., Wang, Y., Kelly, E. V., Sharkey, J. D., & Prinstein, M. J. (2023). Exploration of witnessing community violence and recent death of a close family member or friend: Effects on child psychological and behavioral adjustment. Journal of Child and Family Studies, 32(9), 2442–2455.
Elklit, A., Christensen, K. S., & Jind, L. (2013). The psychological reactions after witnessing a killing in a public place. European Journal of Psychotraumatology, 4(1), 19826.
Groves, B. M. (1993). Silent victims: Children who witness violence. JAMA, 270(5), 612–615.


Written by Mahtab Alinejad
Originally published in Khat-e Solh (Peace Mark) monthly magazine on September 23, 2025.

Selfie with Death: A Question/ Pouya Movahed

HRANA – On a cold morning, the city square is filled with people. A large crane stands in the middle of the square. The rope hanging from the crane sways in the wind. Everyone is in a hurry to find a good spot to watch. A mother gives her child a chocolate to calm them down. Above, a few people stand on a platform wearing masks. They are all waiting. Finally, a person is brought out and handed over to the masked figures. They cover the person with black cloth. Some push each other to get a better view. People raise their phones, not just to take pictures of death, but sometimes to capture a smile; the smile of someone standing with their back to the condemned. The camera captures the moment: “Selfie with death.”

The link between a smile and death here is something sinister and terrifying. But it is a reality. In Iran, execution is not just a public event, but also a spectacle for photography, including taking photos of oneself. “Ordinary” men and women, and even sometimes children, capture their faces in the last moments of another human life.

Why does someone smile in the face of death? Is this a translation of cruelty? Is death a form of empathy in the human psyche? Is apathy and moral numbness? Is submission and surrender to violence and oppression a sign of morality? Perhaps, but here is a very deep mystery of the heart of everyday life of Iranians depicted, something tangible and enduring that must be understood in order to be liberated from it.

Public violence celebration.

Nietzsche says in his genealogy of morals: “No celebration is held without indifference, the highest and oldest lines of human history read this to our ears, and in punishment, the celebration itself is hidden in joy and happiness.” [1] From the Aztec ritual of removing the victim’s heart, to releasing prisoners to be torn apart by animals in Greece and Rome, from stoning in public squares in ancient Iran to the death of gladiators in Rome, from the extravagant celebrations in medieval Europe to the postcards of American lynching with black people, the phenomenon of celebrating violence in public has a long history. In the birthplace of modern civilization, 17th and 18th century England, execution at “Tyburn” was so popular that vendors sold food and singers sang songs, and families, including children, attended.

Selfie with death is a continuation of ancient phenomena that have been blended in a strange way with the characteristics of the digital age. In taking a selfie, there is a hidden kind of celebration. The person is not only a witness to the execution, but also turns it into a personal memory. The government arranges the execution scene and the citizen, by posing for a selfie, becomes both a witness and a participant in this public celebration ceremony.

The logic of taking selfies in the digital age.

In our digital world, existence is tied to being seen. Nothing is complete unless it is captured by a camera and shared on social networks. This logic consumes our entire being, even moments that are inherently unpleasant. It is through being seen that we define our identity [2]. Regardless of how a person may feel during their execution, capturing that moment gives them an opportunity to exist, to be seen. Simply experiencing existence is not enough; it must be recorded and shared.

But selfie is not just a simple photo; it is a social statement that says, “I was here, I am part of this community.” [3] Whatever it may be, a selfie is not just capturing a moment; it is a scene where meaning, power, and identity are constructed and simultaneously transmitted. In a selfie with death, who is “I”? What kind of community is gathered there? And what does being a part of that community mean for him and for society? Such statements, regardless of personal experience, are very powerful: ultimately, what matters is not the experience itself, but the image that circulates from it. [4] In the digital age, any valuable experience is not found within itself, but in its image and reproduction; even if that experience is witnessing someone else’s death. The person taking a selfie with death is not just after capturing that moment, they are making statements about it. And these statements are more important than their actual experience. So to

Krokhti Psychology

Violence has a long history in human society. However, contrary to this, violence towards one’s own kind is incompatible with the fundamental structure of the human brain. Humans are repulsed by the suffering of others from a young age. The concept of empathy and compassion is ingrained in our brains from the beginning. We have “mirror neurons” in our brains, which is why we can recognize and even feel the pain of others. [5[ But this natural potential is completely trainable. Its cultivation is another potential in our genetics. When a child understands the boundaries between “us” and “others”, they develop the ability to empathize. Cruelty towards “others” does not activate the empathy nerves in the brain. [6] “Others” who are worthy of humanity are not capable of empathy.

Without empathy, “we” as a collective, cannot form a social group. This has been the greatest advantage of human evolution. However, in order to maintain this social group against other social groups, empathy must necessarily be selective. This requires mechanisms and special efforts within the group. Empathy does not easily disappear. One must throw away the other from humanity. Violence must be normalized with them. Public execution is one of these mechanisms.

In societies where there is a need to intensify their borders with the “enemy”, public execution is a necessity. At least the main supporters of bordering with the enemy must be exposed to violence repeatedly. Human empathy must be limited with this repetition. “Conscience” must be silenced in relation to the “other”. This is not an easy task and requires detailed rituals and ceremonies. Some of these ceremonies justify violence, while others normalize and tolerate it. This phenomenon is what some in Iran call “enemy recognition”. It is not surprising that children sometimes witness death in a selfie frame, on their father’s shoulder, in their mother’s arms, or next to their elders. Their eyes are fixed on scenes that should shake the soul of any human being. Parents may think they are teaching a lesson, but the truth is something else: the child is learning to silence their empathy. They learn that death can be a spectacle. Repeating violence silences the conscience. Children who should learn empathy,

Selfie with death is an announcement that I belong to this group. Declaring silence towards another human being is a sign of empathy. It means that I do not feel any pain from another person. It is a valid confirmation of killing someone. As we have said, in the digital society, this announcement of experiences is more important.

Fear in the mask of participation.

But announcing affiliation with the killers does not mean the absence of fear. On the contrary, sometimes it is a way to hide fear. Does the selfie-taker not know that social boundaries are very fluid? Does he not know how many groups that were once “us” are now “others”? Does he not know that by pushing and pulling these boundaries, he may end up on the platform? Is he not afraid of this? Smiling and taking selfies is not just a way to document presence, but also an attempt to prove loyalty: “I am with you too. I am part of the group too.”

Public displays of violence are tools for reproducing power. Public execution not only disciplines the body of the criminal, but also the bodies of the spectators: it forces them to comply in silence. They must show that they are in solidarity with power. They must show that solidarity is dead within them and that it will not rebel against power. [7].

Killing someone in front of people’s eyes is the action of the power system. Without a judicial power, without laws and punishments, without enforcement organizations, and without institutions that govern these institutions, such a thing would not have been possible. In Iran, even the terrifying forces of the Revolutionary Guards explicitly attend execution ceremonies. Here, power displays its naked violence. The citizen takes a selfie with the earthly god, meaning the power system and its agents, a god who is in the act of killing. What they truly believe, as we have said, is not so important. In a society of spectacle, the spectacle takes priority. Therefore, by placing themselves in the frame of the photo, the citizen emphasizes that they are not only opposed, but also impartial.

Imitation and blind collective behavior.

Necessarily, someone who takes a selfie is not aware of the meaning of their actions. Imitation and “mimicry” (in the language of Girard) play an important role in this phenomenon. The population is not just an observer. It reproduces itself in the behavior of others. When the first phone is raised to take a photo, others also become willing to do the same. In mass culture, actions originate not from within, but from imitation of others. [8] Individual desires are melted in the furnace of the crowd. Each person feels secure by repeating the behavior of others: “This is not wrong; look at others.”

In his book “Violence and the Sacred”, Girard explains that societies need to kill a common victim in order to control internal anger and violence, digest collective frustrations, redirect collective or governmental failures, and release accumulated emotions. [9] In our society, public execution serves as a means of this collective release, for a minority who identify with the execution: they become the “other” and the collective violence is directed towards them. With their death, a temporary unity is achieved within the minority, free from empathy. The root of the problems is found and eliminated. The public display of execution is not just an individual punishment, but a ritual for the reproduction of the collective “us” for this empathetic minority.

Selfie with execution, republishing the same ritual in virtual space. It shows others who could not attend that a life was punished. Someone paid for their shortfalls and mistakes. The debt was paid and order was restored. The selfie-taker in this act helps the power structure. Temporarily, it spreads the calming effect of execution to the virtual space.

Systematic discrimination and segregation.

Execution in public is a reflection of the system of discrimination and structural inequalities. Those sentenced to death in Iran are often from marginalized groups, ethnic and religious minorities, or lower economic classes. The choice of “victim” is not random; it stems from the same mechanisms of systematic discrimination. Certain social groups are always at risk of persecution and expulsion. Their presence on the execution platform, while others are below, is a reminder of social boundaries.

Every system comes with the production of “waste”, meaning things that do not fit into that system. For example, organizing a room always produces some trash, meaning things that used to have a place but no longer do. Social order is not exempt from this general rule. Society also constantly produces waste, waste that includes individuals, identities, and ways of life. [10] A “lawful” society requires the disposal of this waste: by killing some of them and intimidating and forcing others to deny their own identity and existence. Public execution is a ritual for perpetuating social discrimination.

Selfie with a rope is a reproduction of this marginal mechanism in Tehran. The audience, with a smile and taking pictures, confirms the discriminatory system. It declares that certain groups of society do not have the right to exist, express themselves, or demand equal rights for themselves. Selfie with a rope says, “The discriminatory system must remain untouched.”

Waste from the pre-modern era.

The modern world has considered open violence necessary, whether it be for the cultivation of human nature and instilling a sense of guilt and morality (Friedrich Nietzsche), or for instilling fear of authority (Thomas Hobbes), or for releasing the accumulated disgust and violence in society onto a victim (René Girard), or for establishing moral norms (Emile Durkheim), or for reconstructing and strengthening power structures (Michel Foucault), whatever the reason may be, the modern world has regulated social order through open violence.

But the modern world was able to reduce the intensity of displaying violence. The modern government took the monopoly of violence for itself. The process of power concentration led to the gradual elimination of public displays of violence. [11] The last public executions in Europe and America took place in the 1930s. To maintain social balance and regulate power, more cost-effective and “civilized” methods were found. Executions were sent from the fields to inside prisons. The frequency of executions sharply decreased in the world. The number of countries that still carry out executions in public has decreased to less than a handful. Iran is one of them.

Just as today, it is not necessary to pull out every damaged tooth and dental repairs do not have to be accompanied by pain and torture, the modern system has found less barbaric ways to maintain social order. Public executions show that these modern tools, which are supposed to maintain social order, are not in their proper place. They either do not work, or have never existed. Therefore, in order to compensate for the lost legitimacy, society must be given order in medieval ways. Public executions are a symptom of the backwardness of the system of order in Iranian society. Its rise and fall in different periods indicate the incomplete establishment and repeated destruction of this system. Public executions are a symbol of backwardness, ignorance, and incompetence.

The smile of the selfie taker is a testament to their ignorance. Their demeanor may have been considered normal centuries ago. They live in that past, unaware that what may have been acceptable in the past is now seen as barbaric and savage in the eyes of the modern world. Their unawareness of the logic of the modern world and their pride in belonging to the past is another message hidden in this selfie.

Path of liberation.

The path to breaking the cycle of violence, in the first step, is to see the wound. It must be deeply understood and understood that the scene of execution is not just the murder of a condemned person. Here, the lives of the spectators are also diminished: every glance takes away something from the human identity of the viewer. The eye must remain pure from seeing what is not worthy. The next step, of course, is to refuse. The desire for power only lasts as long as its rituals are repeated. If the crowd leaves the field, the ritual becomes meaningless. If the cameras don’t show up, this show will collapse.

Despite the presence of social networks, even if you do not participate in execution ceremonies, you are virtually present. Execution news is among the most frequent news. Whether you agree or disagree, this is a poison that affects us all. With news of every execution, we are at risk of losing a part of our humanity. The dissemination of news of each execution strikes at the ability of citizens to empathize with each other. Hatred, enmity, and violence are thus spread throughout society and even encompass opponents of the government. Resistance against this poison requires a strong antidote. It is not enough to simply understand and reject the culture of violence in order to resist it.

Non-violent resistance is the rebuilding of empathy in society. A society of execution makes the meaning of humanity exclusive and ambiguous. Resistance against violence is a reminder of the meaning of being human and empathy towards oneself and others. It is a reminder of the connection that binds us all together. Non-violent resistance promotes an understanding of humanity that encompasses all humans. It is a reminder that the unity of humankind is a reality and all social boundaries are temporary constructions. We must recognize and let go of these boundaries and biases that give them strength.

Rebuilding empathy may be the most important thing we should teach the next generation. In societies where public institutions, even schools and media, are trying to teach children hatred and violence, families and neighborhoods are the last havens of compassion. Parents can be role models through their behavior and words, teaching that no human is garbage and no one can turn into a background for someone else’s smile.

Empathy, even when constant promotion of violence is silenced, can be awakened again in individuals. [12] The path to stopping executions in society is not through repeating violence. It is not through hatred and “death to this and that”. Rather, it is through moral awakening. A great river of resistance and perseverance against violence must be started. But every river begins with small streams. From the actions that you and I can do. Resistance against execution may begin with a conversation with family or friends about empathy. It begins with friendly behavior towards strangers. It begins with defending the rights of the oppressed. It begins with showing in action that there is no difference between us as humans. It is in these small actions that a movement for resistance against violence can begin.


Notes:

1.       Nietzsche, F. (2011). On the genealogy of morals (W. A. Kaufmann, Trans.; Nachdr.). Vintage Books.

2.       Rettberg, J. W. (2014). Seeing ourselves through technology. Palgrave Macmillan UK.

3.       Senft, T. M., & Baym, N. K. (2015). Selfies introduction: What does the selfie say? Investigating a global phenomenon. International Journal of Communication, 9, 19.

4.       Debord, G. (2014). The society of the spectacle (K. Knabb, Trans.). Bureau of Public Secrets.

5.       Rizzolatti, G., & Craighero, L. (2004). The mirror-neuron system. Annual Review of Neuroscience, 27(1), 169–192.

6.       Sapolsky, R. M. (2017). Behave: The biology of humans at our best and worst. Penguin Press.

7.       Foucault, M. (1977). Discipline and punish: The birth of the prison (1st American ed.). Pantheon Books.

8.       Girard, R. (1998). Deceit, desire, and the novel: Self and other in literary structure (Y. Freccero, Trans.; Nachdr.). Johns Hopkins University Press.

9.       Girard, R. (1979). Violence and the sacred (P. Gregory, Trans.; Johns Hopkins paperbacks ed.; [Nachdr.]). Johns Hopkins University Press.

10.    Bauman, Z. (2011). Wasted lives: Modernity and its outcasts (Reprint). Polity.

11.    Elias, N. (2010). The civilizing process: Sociogenetic and psychogenetic investigations (E. F. N. Jephcott, Trans.; Rev. ed.). Blackwell.

12.    Batson, C. D. (2011). Altruism in humans. Oxford University Press.

 


Written by Pouya Movahed
Originally published in Khat-e Solh (Peace Mark) monthly magazine on September 23, 2025.

The Social Massacre of Afghan Immigrants / Amin Ghazaei

HRANA – After the 12-day war between Iran and Israel, the Iranian government, which saw its security structure collapse, resorted to blind arrests and expulsions of over half a million Afghan nationals in just sixteen days. The Islamic Republic claimed that these unauthorized individuals were acting against national security and in favor of Israel. It is not believable that in a situation where the security apparatus of this government could not even protect high-ranking members of the Revolutionary Guards, they were able to obtain such detailed information in a matter of days to identify and detain hundreds of alleged spies. Similarly, the claim of extensive cooperation between Afghans and Israel and the threat to national security is not acceptable. It is obvious that if such detailed information existed, these same institutions would not fail so embarrassingly in protecting the lives of their highest-ranking government and military officials.

Therefore, the expulsion of hundreds of thousands of Afghan citizens in a short period of time has no justifiable or acceptable security basis. Of course, it is argued that illegal entry and residence in a country violates immigration laws and as a result, any country has the right to expel migrants without legal documents.

Discrimination does not only occur in the content of the law, but it can also exist in its implementation. The law must be explicit, clear, and free from discrimination, and perhaps more importantly, its enforcement should not be based on personal biases and preferences.

Actions of laws may occur in terms of location or time. The responsible institutions for enforcing the law may apply it to some individuals and not to others. However, the application of the law can also be inconsistent over time and can change based on policy changes; such as the temporary registration of Afghan immigrants and then its non-renewal or revocation in subsequent years. This situation creates an unpredictable situation, where the immigrant does not know if they will be deported or not. Therefore, with this action, the application of the law and its time and location become uncertain and subject to the whims of policymakers and the arbitrary preferences of law enforcement institutions; as we saw after the Iran-Israel war, suddenly and overnight, with a change in security policy, Afghan immigrants were forced to leave behind the lives they had built through years of hardship and go elsewhere. For many Afghan children, Afghanistan is just a name and they suddenly have to set foot in an unfamiliar land.

Apart from this, the Iranian government has not followed any principles in the implementation of the law and has not even provided a sufficient grace period. As a result, the grounds for numerous abuses against Afghan citizens have been created; including withholding payment for rent, wages, or debts. We know that many Afghan citizens, due to lack of access to the banking system, are forced to keep their savings in cash or entrust them to others; a situation that always provides the opportunity for abuse and crime. It is clear that with these sudden evictions, they have suffered great losses.

The emergence of this human tragedy, which can be seen as a form of ethnic cleansing or social genocide of Afghan immigrants in Iran, shows that the actions of legal authorities can be even worse than legal discrimination; and these are the areas that have received less attention from human rights organizations.

In this way, Afghan immigrants in Iran are in a suspended and lawless state. Many of them remain in this suspended state for years, hoping for legalization in the future, and during this time, they are deprived of the right to legal work, education, healthcare, and legal protection. But the consequences of living in this suspended space are not just deprivation; Afghans in Iran have been transformed into a lower class due to years of living outside the law. In terms of social status, this lawless class is not much different from the slaves of the Roman Empire or a caste system. Afghan migrants without documents, not even recognized as “foreigners” or “migrants” or “foreigners,” are only known as simple and black laborers and will never have a chance for social advancement. They remain in a caste. So the Afghan identity is stigmatized and they become the victims of the most severe forms of racism and harassment.

Over the years, the Iranian government has been unable to establish a legal framework that is suitable for the country’s needs and capacities to accommodate Afghan immigrants. On the other hand, a large portion of the Iranian population has also not been able to accept that Afghans, as the only neighboring and co-ethnic people, should have a rightful place and status in Iranian society. As a result, Afghans in Iran are caught in a dilemma of either being “mass deported” or living in an unlawful situation. For human rights organizations, the situation of Afghan immigrants in Iran should be recognized as the most obvious consequence of arbitrary law enforcement and discrimination and condemned.


Written by Amin Ghazaei
Originally published in Khat-e Solh (Peace Mark) monthly magazine on August 23, 2025.

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A home that we have never had / Pardis Parsa

HRANA– Iran has been hosting Afghans for years and has occasionally expelled illegal immigrants, but after the war with Israel, the intensity of actions against Afghans has reached an unprecedented level. This complex humanitarian crisis has had consequences for both remaining migrants in Iran, returning citizens, and has also caused devastation for the crisis-stricken country of Afghanistan. According to statistics, as of the beginning of 2025, more than one and a half million Afghans have returned to their country from Iran, and in just a few weeks after the end of the conflict with Israel, this process has accelerated dramatically, with tens of thousands of people crossing the borders daily.

Iranian authorities have cited security concerns and allegations of cooperation between some Afghan immigrants and Israel as the main reason for this harsh treatment. Iranian state media has attempted to strengthen this narrative by broadcasting confessions from unidentified individuals. However, Mohammad Monan Reisi, a member of the Iranian parliament, has openly stated: “Not even one of the detained spies were Afghan citizens.” These statements show that even within Iran, there is no consistent narrative on this issue.

Legal loopholes in Iran and their consequences for Afghan immigrants.

After the political regime of Afghanistan was handed over to the Taliban, the country was placed among the poorest countries in the world due to unfavorable socio-political conditions, drought, and widespread economic recession. Although conflicts have decreased in Afghanistan, violence, fear, deprivation, and extreme poverty continue to force people in this country to migrate to other countries, especially Iran and Pakistan. The open borders have led to the entry of many Afghan refugees into Iran, but on the other hand, Iranian legal laws have not provided the possibility of integrating Afghan immigrants into Iranian society and have deprived them of even the most basic human rights. The legislature has not passed comprehensive and up-to-date laws regarding the entry and acceptance of refugees and their protection, and has not specified regulations related to census, conditions and procedures for applying for asylum, decision-making authority, determination of refugee status standards, refugee rights, their obligations, conditions for extending residence, and necessary conditions for obtaining citizenship.

Afghan migrants in Iran are not permitted to have bank accounts or SIM cards and are deprived of public services in many parts of the country. Being denied such basic rights has stripped Afghan migrants of the possibility of social and class mobility, resulting in marginalization, isolation, increased poverty, and heightened vulnerability. Their employment as unskilled labor in construction, agriculture, livestock, and poultry farming has aligned the Afghan population in Iran with the lowest social and economic classes of the country.

Yet, if lawmakers had facilitated their access to educational, academic, and suitable job opportunities, their living conditions would have improved, and their contribution to the gross domestic product would have increased. Under labor law, Afghan migrants are only permitted to work in 37 designated occupations. However, among them are educated and skilled individuals whose capacities and abilities remain unused, as they are instead pushed into hard manual labor.

Overflowing social anger on the bodies of immigrants.

In recent years, the economic conditions in Iran have been devastating. The increase in unemployment, inflation, and daily price hikes have put a strain on the lower-income groups in society, causing their struggles to worsen every day. The economic pressures and internal crises in Iran have intensified anti-immigrant sentiments in society and have led to the spread of discrimination and violence against Afghans.

“Masoumeh”, who is originally from Afghanistan and has been living in Tehran for twenty years, says: “I had promised my daughter to register her in the library. We gave our passports to the library official, but they said they cannot accept it because its validity is less than six months. When I protested, they said that we are foreigners and our situation is different, it is not clear if our residence will be extended after two or three months, and the library has its own specific rules. We gave up on becoming members of the library. When we were returning home, my daughter asked me what does being a foreigner mean? And I didn’t know how to answer her.”

“Maryam”, a 22-year-old Afghan student living in Tehran, says: “I feel a lot of anger among people, even my Iranian friends. When people can’t express their anger towards the inefficiency of the government, they transfer it to weaker individuals.”

In such conditions, the publication of articles such as the use of Iranian subsidies by migrants has made the society’s attitude towards Afghan migrants more bitter, and some Iranians have opened their mouths to protest, insult, and even threaten in various online spaces, and have launched campaigns that call for the expulsion of Afghans as a “national demand”. However, it should be noted that migrants in Iran are not just consumers; they work in sectors such as agriculture, construction, and urban services under the most difficult working conditions, with low wages, without legal support, insurance, or retirement benefits, and they pay for services and facilities such as education, healthcare, and transportation, which are sometimes even more than Iranian citizens. Furthermore, they have to pay significant amounts to the Iranian government annually for visas, residence permits, census cards, work permits, document renewals, and travel permits.

“Ali, who is from Afghanistan and works in the construction industry in Tehran, says: “These days, I hear from many people that they say the party is over, go back to your own country. Which party? In these years, they have humiliated us in every way possible, and they have blamed us for every problem. They say we have consumed too much, yes, that’s true, but did they pay us a fair wage? Did they give us insurance or retirement benefits? I know someone who fell from a scaffolding and spent hundreds of times more money on treating his broken limbs than what he had earned. I heard once that some construction company had built a tower and instead of paying the workers, they called the police to arrest them all. How bad do I have to show you that their employers have taken their money? I dare to say that this issue of not paying wages has happened to all Afghans.”

However, “Hossein”, who is Iranian and works as a barista in a cafe, says: “The lack of water, electricity, gas, housing, and jobs is the fault of the Afghans. It puts our safety and the safety of our families at risk. The soldiers who don’t die, don’t pay taxes, and even use free subsidies. Other countries attract specialists and investors, but we, in the midst of economic and energy crises, have attracted millions of non-productive people. A party for one year, two years, not forever, and that too for thousands, tens of thousands, not five or six million people. In this war, it seems that many of the destructions have been caused by these very people.”

Accusations of espionage after the war with Israel have fueled violence against Afghan residents in Iran more than ever. In addition to hearing insults in the streets, there are now many reports of Afghans being beaten, stabbed, or denied services in banks, bakeries, pharmacies, schools, and hospitals.

“Sharif”, who is from Afghanistan and is a caretaker, says: “If someone makes a mistake, we should not all be blamed for it. The situation has become such that I am afraid of both the people and the government. I don’t feel safe anywhere. Some people have been beaten on buses and subways, and they have repeatedly accused me of being an Israeli spy.”

“Wajiha”, a 24-year-old who came to Tehran and lives with her family in Qods city, says about the riots she has seen: “I was in a taxi when the driver said it’s because of people like you that Iranians are being killed. I told him we didn’t do anything. We are just trying to live our lives. Once, in line at the bakery, a woman who had bought a lot of bread was telling others that she buys these breads so that Afghans don’t get them. They have occupied our country.”

“Narratives of Forced Return.”

The war with Israel shattered the relative stability that existed in the lives of many Afghan refugees living in Iran, causing many to lose their jobs and be forced to leave Iran. “Nadia,” who had been living in Iran for four years and whose husband ran a shoe workshop, says: “We came to Iran from Afghanistan because of unemployment and insecurity, but the war between Iran and Israel changed everything. The work conditions became difficult for my husband and he was unemployed for a while. At that time, we decided to go back. We spent a night without food and water in a refugee camp, then we headed to Kabul. I love Iran very much, I was crying when we crossed the border.”

Returned immigrants tell heartbreaking stories of the process of deportation, from being arrested on the streets and at metro stations, to sudden police raids at their workplace and physical abuse, and humiliation.

“Hamid”, an Iranian engineer, talks about his experience of violence that he has witnessed: “I went to the car wash and suddenly a white van entered the premises. All the workers stood up. A young soldier got out and found some of them among the cars and took them into the van. As the van drove away, two of them came down from the top of the roof. They were worried about their friends and said they might be sent back empty-handed tonight. They informed the car wash manager to take their documents to the police station, and they started washing my car. One of them said, “I used to be in the military, but when the Taliban came, we were forced to come to Iran.” The other, who was very young, showed me the spot where the Taliban’s bullet had hit him in his leg.”

“Fatima” says: “My younger brother crossed the border last week. While they were taking him, he was wearing flip flops and they sent him to Afghanistan like that. When he called, he said they beat him with a hose. I am a student in Iran and I am supposed to stay here, but my parents wanted to go back to Afghanistan and now that my brother crossed the border like this, they took my father too.”

“Maryam” says: “They arrested some children on the street and sent them back to Afghanistan alone. They took a ten-year-old child and didn’t allow her to call her mother. When her mother arrived there, they also arrested her, while her young daughter was at home.”

“Mehdi”, who works as a laborer in the Tehran market, says: “When they take us to the camp, I wish they would cross the border quickly. They keep us there for a long time in the heat, chaos, and lack of facilities. There is no news of water or food either. In this very camp, I knew someone from Asgarabad who said if you want to buy mineral water there, you have to spend three hundred thousand tomans. He said some people died in that situation. In the end, those who cross the border have to pay three million and three hundred thousand tomans for the bus to take them to the border.”

Media and human rights reports indicate that even some Afghans with valid residency documents have been forcibly expelled. Mehdi says, “Many times, even those who are authorized and legal cross the border. Then, every year, God knows how much money is taken from the Afghan people to renew these documents.”

Among them were also those who had exit papers and were supposed to leave for Afghanistan on a specific date with their families, but unfortunately were caught in the streets, alleys, or at their workplace and were forced to leave without any plans for their home and life.

Kulthum says: “I am pregnant and I am left alone in Islamshahr with my three children. I have no one. My husband was taken by the police and sent to Afghanistan. He had a census paper and we were supposed to leave Iran ourselves. But the police took him from our house and sent him to a camp. Whatever I told them, that I have an exit paper, it was useless. No one listened. He couldn’t even get his salary because his employer said he would settle it after the project is finished. Now my husband is in Herat, I am here, I have to manage our house and life alone and go to Afghanistan.”

Many Afghans, before being able to even receive their wages or the money for their rented homes, or gather their belongings, were forced to leave Iran with brief warnings. Those who resisted and stayed to fight for their rights are at risk of being arrested. “Ahmad” says: “A few weeks ago, I told the landlord to return my house deposit, which was 500 million tomans. But the landlord said the house was deposited to a company for rent and he can’t give me the money until a tenant is found. It’s been a while since I’ve been calling and he doesn’t answer. I spent twelve years in Iran, I sweated and was humiliated until I could gather this money. According to the exit permit, we were supposed to leave Iran a few weeks ago, but now we’re stuck waiting to see what will happen to our money. To avoid being arrested, I take an early morning Snapp (ride-sharing service) to work and come

During their decades of residence in Iran, some immigrants have been successful in buying houses. However, due to legal restrictions, they have not been able to register the property in their own names and have been forced to include the name of an Iranian individual in the deed. Now that many of them are forced to leave Iran and intend to sell their homes, they are facing serious problems because buyers are not willing to pay the real value of the property. Instead, they use various pressures and excuses to try and force the immigrants to sell their homes at a lower price.

“Shakib” says: “Three years ago, I bought a 60 square meter unit in Kahrezak. Since I couldn’t have the deed in my own name, I put the house in the name of one of my Iranian acquaintances. When the date for the exit papers approached, I couldn’t find any fair buyer to purchase the house at its price. I was forced to sell the house at half the price to the same person whose name was on the deed.”

The migration crisis is a reflection of all the failures.

What is presented in this report is not only a narrative of the suffering of Afghan migrants, but also a clear depiction of the mechanism that, in the face of crisis, chooses denial and blame instead of responsiveness and structural reform. In days when the country is struggling with political, economic, and social consequences of war, the Iranian government has tried to divert attention from its own shortcomings by highlighting the role of Afghan migrants as a “security threat” or “additional pressure on resources.” Instead of accepting responsibility for economic crises, weaknesses in crisis management, and lack of planning in areas such as employment, education, public services, and foreign policy, the Iranian government has turned Afghan migrants into a tool to deflect public opinion and cover up its own failures. Afghans have now become the scapegoats of a system that, in order to survive, needs to create an “enemy,” even if that enemy is children who were born in Iran and have never seen their homeland of Afghanistan.

The first step in solving the migration crisis is to abandon “blame politics” and “accept responsibility”, something that is missing in the current narrative more than anything else.


Written by Pardis Parsa
Originally published in Khat-e Solh (Peace Mark) monthly magazine on August 23, 2025.

Hope or fear after the ceasefire?/ Majid Shia Ali

HRANA– The twelve-day war has ended, but the war conditions have not ended. The shadow of war still looms over Iranian society. The threat of war, missile attacks, explosions, assassinations, and Israeli security operations in Iran are still serious. The continuation of the war situation, the inability of the government to take action to address this threat, and the exacerbation of previous political and economic crises have created a situation where the image of Iran after the war is shrouded in uncertainty. The question of what the outcome of this situation will be in various areas is being raised, and one of these areas is what will happen to Iranian civil society?

The importance of the issue lies in the belief of many researchers that the absence of a strong and effective civil society minimizes opportunities for democratization, economic development, and resolution of various crises. These organized collaborations within society, in the form of grassroots organizations, trade unions, political parties, etc., give society the ability to solve its problems. Even some Iranian thinkers attribute the weakness of Iranian society in pursuing its demands to the weakness of its civil society. This raises concerns about whether Israeli missiles, in addition to taking the lives of Iranian citizens and destroying buildings, will also destroy Iranian civil society. What will be the impact of the continuation of this hostile environment?

Throughout the history of the modern world, wars have generally changed the dynamics of societies and the relationship between government and society. These changes have often created a domino effect, meaning that, like a wheel that turns and throws a lever into the next room, it is difficult to return to the previous state. Wars may come to an end, but their effects and the conditions they create do not return to their previous state.

War conditions can create phenomena that have serious effects on the destruction of civil society. Usually, war conditions cause the social space for action to become more closed and opportunities for activism to be limited. This closed space and limitations resulting from the war environment often continue even after the end of the war. In addition, it provides governments, especially authoritarian governments, with an excuse to destroy civil society. Various studies also emphasize that societies with higher economic and educational levels have a greater tendency towards civil activism, and as a result, the economic crisis caused by war can lead to a decrease in voluntary activism and further destruction of civil society.

In today’s conditions in Iran, all of these cases have evidence. The arrest of a large number of citizens during the twelve-day war, restrictions and disconnection of the internet during and after the war, the transfer of political prisoners to Evin with violations of their rights and inhumanity towards them, and others, all confirm the creation of serious threats to Iranian civil society.

On the other hand, war can also have effects on strengthening civil society. One of the reasons for the creation of the half-full glass is that, as prominent American sociologist Charles Tilly points out, governments need more support from society during times of war. This need is diverse. They require more legitimacy, more financial support, more volunteer forces, etc. from society, and this fulfillment of needs leads to giving various privileges to society. Just as the expansion of women’s suffrage in Europe was greatly influenced by world wars. The Civil War in the United States began for other reasons, but the issue of slavery became prominent during it, leading to the emancipation of African Americans and even the success of civil rights movements after a century in the midst of the Vietnam War.

This phenomenon of governments seeking legitimacy in the midst of revolutionary war is also present in our country’s political landscape. The idea of national unity, pursued by some moderate figures within the ruling establishment, can be understood within this framework. Although more hardline figures are opposed to the government’s efforts to gain minimal legitimacy in times of war, the President and the head of the judiciary are insistent on implementing this plan. Figures like former President Hassan Rouhani have also emphasized specific plans in this regard. What strengthens this possibility is the collapse of the traditional social base of the government. The government has so far justified all crises by claiming to be anti-West and striving to eliminate Israel, but with the acceptance of a ceasefire with Israel, all of those slogans have become meaningless. As a result, the government has lost a significant source of previous legitimacy and now needs to seek legitimacy from more serious sources than similar cases.

Another phenomenon that leads to strengthening civil society in post-war societies is the widespread mobilization of society. War conditions usually lead to the mobilization of society in various forms, from the mobilization of volunteer or conscript military forces to the mobilization of industrialists in military production, to local and national mobilization to address social crises resulting from war. What is highlighted and important here is the impact of the third type of mobilization, which has also been experienced in our society. Efforts to address the problems and issues resulting from war, bombings, and damages have fostered a significant level of cooperation among people.

Rieko Kage, an assistant professor of political science at the University of Tokyo, shows in her research that in the experience of World War II, societies that have experienced a higher level of mobilization, strengthen civil society at a faster pace in post-war conditions. She illustrates this issue with an example of a deviated path taken by a people’s organization in Japan. Although suppression during war has led to a decrease in its members, the experience of people working together during war has shaped a culture that, without any organizational policy for expansion and beyond their predictions, has increased its members after the war.

 

In fact, he suggests that the experience of community mobilization and extensive cooperation among individuals leads to a change in the habits of citizens and a greater inclination towards collaboration. This phenomenon is more evident among the younger generation who are more receptive to society. Therefore, such bitter and bloody experiences may make a part of our society more prepared to participate in civic activities.

Ultimately, whether the positive elements outweigh the negative ones or vice versa, whether our civil society can seize the opportunity for growth in these critical conditions or suffer further destruction, depends on the actions of all political and civil actors and future events. Whatever the case may be, even if it has positive effects on the political landscape, war and the lives lost in it are a great and painful damage, and it is hoped that its shadow will be removed from the skies of Iran as soon as possible.


Written by Majid Shia’ali
Originally published in Khat-e Solh (Peace Mark) monthly magazine on August 23, 2025.

Espionage: The Regime’s Worn-Out Tool to Silence Dissent/Reza Alijani

HRANA- Onstage and Behind the Scenes of the Ratification of Article Nine of the Constitution

Article 9 of the Constitution of the Islamic Republic of Iran states: “In the Islamic Republic of Iran, freedom, independence, unity, and the territorial integrity of the country are inseparable, and preserving them is the duty of the government and all individuals in the nation. No individual, group, or authority has the right, under the pretext of exercising freedom, to impair the political, cultural, economic, or military independence or the territorial integrity of Iran in the slightest. Likewise, no authority has the right, in the name of preserving independence and territorial integrity, to curtail legitimate freedoms, even by enacting laws and regulations.”

During the drafting of this article by the Assembly of Experts for Constitution Drafting, one faction—led by Mousavi Jazayeri and Hassan Ayat—believed that independence could justify restricting freedoms. Another group, represented by Mohammad Beheshti, held that freedoms could be limited in exceptional circumstances based on the principle of prioritizing more critical matters (al-aham fi al-aham). A third faction, led by Nasser Makarem Shirazi, believed that freedom and independence are never in opposition.

Ultimately, after extensive linguistic and substantive debate, it was agreed that the article should begin by declaring that freedom and independence are inseparable. However, when the assembly moved to write, “No authority has the right to curtail freedoms under the pretext of preserving independence and territorial integrity, even through legislation,” the word legitimate was inserted before freedoms.

What has unfolded over the past four decades in our country, when compared to this article and the debates behind its creation, offers a rich source of reflection, lessons, and experience for the future.

Four Decades of Practice: The Relationship Between Freedom and Independence

Over these four decades, we have seen how, despite the article’s clear assertion that freedom and independence are inseparable—and with freedom even mentioned before independence—the scope of freedom has been increasingly restricted under a conspiracy-driven, enemy-centric framework. Every critic and dissenter has been linked to foreign enemies, and sometimes even accused of espionage, as a pretext to suppress political and civil liberties.

What was initially intended to be applicable only in extraordinary and exceptional circumstances has become a rigid and permanent rule. In the name of independence, freedom has been shackled, and its advocates imprisoned.

We have also witnessed how individuals who once, prior to gaining power and privilege, voiced the most enlightened positions, later became among the most dogmatic clerics. Their repeated fatwas of “this is forbidden” against freedom have become a national farce. If we fail to learn from our history, these patterns will repeat themselves in the future.

The Twelve-Day War: A New Chapter in the Freedom vs. Independence Narrative

Returning to today’s circumstances: following the attack by the Israeli regime—accused of war crimes and genocide—on Iran, a move largely seen as the bitter outcome of decades of fundamental errors by the ruling clerical regime, especially in its unpatriotic and adventurist foreign policy, the political and civil atmosphere in the country came under intense pressure.

This blatant aggression also revealed a hidden reality: the depth and extent of Israeli infiltration across various military, intelligence, and political levels within the clerical regime.

These two issues—the violation of national independence and Israel’s extensive infiltration—became excuses for the regime to intensify the repression of the political sphere under the guise of wartime conditions and espionage threats. Freedoms that were never meant to endanger national unity, independence, or territorial integrity now came under even more severe attack.

Parliament, which under Article 9 is explicitly barred from restricting freedom in the name of preserving independence, rushed to support the security apparatus. Citing wartime conditions and the threat of infiltration and espionage, it passed a draconian law targeting “spies”—so vague and sweeping that even a social media post could be deemed espionage. The law was so extreme that even the ultra-conservative clerics and legal experts of the Guardian Council criticized the ambiguous wording, scope, and implications—which could, in theory, impose the death penalty on online activists—and sent the bill back to parliament.

Regrettably, some opponents and critics of the clerical regime, by insisting that “now is not the time for criticism; we must only condemn Israel,” inadvertently helped reinforce the state of emergency that, by design, was never meant to justify censorship—let alone self-censorship—and ended up aligning, in practice, with the anti-freedom regime.

In this new wave of repression—marked by arrests, public beatings of civil activists, enforcement of old verdicts, and increased pressure on oppressed minorities (such as Afghans, Baha’is, Jews, Kurds, etc.)—the clerical regime was clearly terrified of two fundamental points:

1• Repression of Freedoms to Hide the Root Causes of Compromised National Independence

The regime sought to silence civil dialogue and public debate to prevent widespread articulation of a basic truth—that, as Mir-Hossein Mousavi and many others have argued, the current crisis is a result of decades of destructive policies and systemic errors committed by the regime itself. While Israel is legally responsible (having, in defiance of international protocols and without facing any imminent threat, launched a military assault on Iran in a characteristically brutal and inhumane manner), the political responsibility lies with Ali Khamenei and his decades-long, reckless, anti-national, and undemocratic policies—including obsessive hostility toward Israel and the United States, the squandering of billions of national funds on the nuclear program, deceptive insistence on uranium enrichment, and the nurturing of proxy militias.

2 • Suppression of Freedoms to Deflect from Genuine Espionage That Endangers National Security

Secondly, the regime engaged in a ridiculous yet cruel attempt to downplay the issue of infiltration and espionage by scapegoating vulnerable minorities—Afghans, Baha’is, Jews, Kurds, and others. Yet none of these communities have access to sensitive or classified state facilities to spy on. It is abundantly clear that information about secret meeting places, residences, and military command centers is known only to those within the system—not to these oppressed minorities.

Let us not forget: a few years ago, the heads of the Israel desks at both the Ministry of Intelligence and IRGC Intelligence were themselves revealed to be Israeli spies—and were arrested and executed.

A decade ago, in an article titled Israel at Iran’s Doorstep, I examined several layers of Israeli infiltration into the clerical regime up to that point. There’s no need to repeat those details here.¹

Learning from the Past to Illuminate the Future

During the Assembly of Experts’ drafting of the Constitution, Sheikh Ali Tehrani—brother-in-law to Ali Khamenei and later a vocal opponent of the clerical regime—made an important observation: that restricting freedom ultimately threatens independence. He stressed that freedom must not be curtailed in the name of independence.

Today, this critical warning stands before our eyes as a concrete and undeniable truth. When political and civil liberties are suppressed through pretexts like espionage and enemy affiliation, Seyyed Ali Khamenei is free to continue destructive, unchallengeable policies—policies he has elevated to the status of regime “honor” and sanctity, rendering any criticism a punishable offense. Whether it’s the nuclear program, anti-American and anti-Israel dogma, or even public polling on these issues—any dissent is met with detention, torture, and imprisonment. And so, we arrive at a point where the very independence and security of the country are endangered, and Iranian skies become open airspace for Israeli and American military aircraft.

Furthermore, once a nation’s freedoms are curbed, meritocracy vanishes. The natural order—in which people of diverse talents and perspectives, operating with equal rights, can take part in governance—is replaced by an unnatural system where military, political, and intelligence appointments are monopolized by a narrow, loyalist elite. This environment is ripe for exploitation by opportunists who, by conforming to the regime’s preferred image, rise to high-level posts—only to later betray national security and sovereignty.

After all these catastrophic costs, one critical lesson emerges: freedom and independence must be protected together. Abusing one to destroy the other leads only to painful and devastating consequences for the nation and its people.

Reference:

  1. Alijani, Reza. Israel at Iran’s DoorstepRooz Online, May 6, 2015 (16 Ordibehesht 1394).


Written by Reza Alijani
Originally published in Khat-e Solh (Peace Mark) monthly magazine on July 23, 2025.

When the Twelve-Day War Reached the Internet/ Fereshteh Goli

In today’s world, the internet has a clear meaning: a tool for fast, direct, and uncensored communication among people, with access to firsthand news and information—even if that information is sometimes incorrect or misleading. In any case, the right to access the internet is recognized in international law as part of fundamental human rights and freedoms. Nevertheless, like other declared rights, this one has repeatedly been limited or entirely revoked in certain countries. North Korea is a notable example. Iran is also among the countries that, through widespread and repeated internet shutdowns (both internationally and domestically), has denied its people free access to the internet—including during November 2019 (Aban 1398), one of the world’s most extensive and complex internet blackouts, again during the 2022 (1401) nationwide protests of the “Woman, Life, Freedom” movement, and most recently, during the twelve-day war when the internet was once again entirely cut off.

The November 2019 internet shutdown is considered the largest in Iran’s internet history. Reports indicate that in terms of geographical extent and duration, it was unmatched by previous disruptions: internet coverage across Iran was completely cut, and all users lost access to the network. This move—largely driven by panic and fear—was an exceedingly rare case, and, according to some analysts, unprecedented in modern global history.

In an investigative report for Wired, journalist Matt Burgess revealed findings from new research by the human rights organization Article 19, exposing how the Islamic Republic shut down communications for tens of millions and activated a “national” internet system it had been building for years. (1) This research outlines the architecture of Iran’s internet and presents a picture of state control unparalleled anywhere else in the world. In other words, the Islamic Republic, under unique conditions, can impose any level of control over citizens’ internet use. (2) One of the main reasons cited by the state for these shutdowns is the fear of protest footage and images being disseminated—ostensibly to reduce unrest, but in practice aimed at preventing opposition organizing. Additionally, the authorities have long feared losing control over public opinion and view severing communication with the outside world as the best solution. This fear can be documented over the decades since the 1979 revolution: from banning video players and satellite dishes to cutting off the internet, imposing harsh restrictions on print media, mass shutdowns of newspapers, and heavy censorship in book publishing—all under the justification of combating a so-called “psychological war” waged by the enemy. However, in the absence of free information flow and given the public’s distrust in official state media, these policies often backfire. In such situations, a population thirsty for information turns to foreign sources. The state fails to consider that while internet shutdowns might achieve short-term goals, in the long run they drastically erode public trust in domestic media and effectively transfer informational authority to external outlets.

On a more practical level, internet shutdowns in an age when even the most basic aspects of daily life depend on it effectively cripple the country. Services like education, commerce, banking, and even transportation are severely impacted, causing major disruptions to daily life and significant economic losses. This in turn increases public dissatisfaction—dissatisfaction that may not surface immediately but settles into society like embers under ashes, ready to ignite at any moment. Moreover, due to extensive filtering, people rely heavily on VPNs (virtual private networks) to access platforms. Without any age restrictions, users not only access blocked platforms but also potentially reach illicit and dangerous content. The VPN market in Iran has become so lucrative that its annual turnover reportedly reaches tens of thousands of billions of tomans. Filtering, once a purely security policy, has gradually become part of a profitable economic cycle, from which certain groups and institutions—directly or indirectly—benefit. While billions are spent on developing internet infrastructure, a parallel underground market thrives on filtering and actively resists any reform. (3)

What occurred during the twelve-day war should be assessed from two different angles. On one hand, officials stated that the international internet shutdown and limitation of global access were intended to disrupt communication between Israeli proxy forces within Iran—forces said to be using the internet to guide drone strikes on domestic targets. These drones allegedly used local SIM cards and internet connections to hit their marks—a claim questioned by many cybersecurity and internet experts. While drone attacks reportedly declined after the internet shutdown, some experts attribute this reduction to the reactivation of Iran’s air defense systems, which were reportedly disabled by a widespread cyberattack during the initial hours of the war. Thus, there is insufficient evidence to confirm a direct correlation between the internet shutdown and the disruption of drone operations. In fact, many analysts argue that Israel’s drone and cyber operations are more reliant on isolated systems and internal technologies than on public internet infrastructure. A clear example can be seen in past cyberattacks: including the widespread hacking of fuel distribution systems, gas stations, and fuel card systems, or the 2007 Stuxnet malware attack—engineered by Erik van Sabben, a Dutch engineer affiliated with Dutch intelligence, who installed infected equipment in Iran’s Natanz nuclear facility. This malware reportedly cost over a billion dollars to develop. Nonetheless, the most significant result of the recent nationwide internet blackout during the war was the suppression of information: blocking the reporting of attacks and damage, and attempting to control wartime narratives.

What became most evident during the twelve-day war was the massive disruption to everyday civilian life under wartime conditions—from people losing contact with their loved ones, to disruptions in emergency communications, relief coordination, and updates on safe zones, evacuation routes, and assembly points for the injured. Authorities urged citizens to use domestic platforms, yet many people were unfamiliar with or distrusted these platforms. On the other hand, the blackout hindered rapid humanitarian relief to affected areas. It also shut down countless businesses that relied on foreign platforms and software. No one took responsibility for the losses incurred. Many individuals who earned a living through Instagram or other pre-filtered social media platforms faced serious financial hardship. Even some domestic services, such as banking systems dependent on international IP addresses, experienced disruptions, exacerbating financial and economic challenges for ordinary citizens. During the same period, two major banks—Sepah Bank (affiliated with military institutions) and Pasargad Bank—were targeted in a cyberattack. This large-scale hack caused numerous problems for their clients, leading to the transfer of pension payments for many Sepah Bank retirees to alternative accounts.

Perhaps the most ironic aspect of this episode came after the ceasefire, when state media such as IRIB and some hardliner figures made extraordinary efforts to blame social media platforms like WhatsApp, Instagram, and Telegram for espionage activities and the deaths of senior commanders and nuclear scientists. This, despite claims from the daughter of one slain commander who said her father never used WhatsApp or any other social media—and didn’t even own a smartphone. (4) This attempt to portray global internet platforms as scapegoats for intelligence failures is even more telling than the act of shutting down the internet itself. Hardline elements of the state hope that such narratives will persuade Iran’s leadership to continue total internet blackouts and fully transition to a local intranet system.

In any case, internet shutdowns have become a routine crisis-control tool in Iran. However, this strategy may lead to growing public distrust and serious long-term economic damage. Moreover, advancements in technologies like Starlink satellite internet could soon render such restrictions ineffective. The denial of public access to the global internet during the twelve-day war (and in similar crises) reflects the government’s fear of information spread and potential protest mobilization. While it may be temporarily effective, in the long run it incurs heavy political, economic, and social costs—and may even foster greater instability. Ultimately, shutting down the internet not only restricts access to information but can endanger lives during emergencies. Maintaining access to the internet in times of crisis is an undeniable necessity—for saving lives and reducing societal vulnerability.


References:
1 – Burgess, Matt , “Iran’s Internet Blackout Adds New Dangers for Civilians Amid Israeli Bombings,” Wired, 18 June 2025.
2 – Nationwide Internet Shutdown in Iran (2019), Darvazeh-ye Mellal Safiran Website, 17 August 2024 (26 Mordad 1403).
3 – “These Are Iran’s Filtering Profiteers / Tens of Thousands of Billions in VPN Revenue,” Khabar Online, 2 June 2025 (13 Khordad 1404).
4 – “Martyr Shadmani’s Daughter Denies Claim: Mobile Phone Was Not Behind My Father’s Assassination,” Tabnak, 3 July 2025 (13 Tir 1404).


Written by Fereshteh Goli
Originally published in Khat-e Solh (Peace Mark) monthly magazine on July 23, 2025.

Inspection Station or Death Ambush? The Dark Tale of Hamadan Valley After the Twelve-Day War / Reza Harisi

HRANA- The end of the twelve-day war between Iran and Israel, contrary to public expectations, did not lead to a breaking peace, but rather to a chaotic and unstable situation within the country. During this war and immediately after the declaration of ceasefire, security and military forces of the Islamic Republic began to set up hundreds of inspection checkpoints in cities, roads, border areas, and sensitive urban locations. Official authorities referred to this action as “preventing infiltration of Mossad agents” and “combating spies,” but in reality, these inspection checkpoints turned into clear examples of domestic suppression, gross violations of human rights, and unaccounted for massacres. The project known as “securityization” in Iran after the war, with the true meaning of security at its core, has practically become a tool for controlling society, silencing dissenting voices, and strengthening a climate of fear. This comes while the issue of “real infiltration” has not begun at the borders or on the roads of Hamedan, Zahedan, or Kurdistan, but from within the power structure itself and from the highest levels of decision-making.

The reality is that the issue of infiltration in the upper echelons of the Islamic Republic has been raised seriously and repeatedly for years. Seyed Mahmoud Alavi, the former Minister of Intelligence of the Islamic Republic, had warned about this issue multiple times. In 2016-2017, at a conference for public prosecutors, military officials, and heads of the judiciary in Mashhad, he stated: “The issue of infiltration today is more serious and fundamental than in the past.” (1) In 1398, in a television program, he mentioned “the projects of foreign intelligence services’ infiltration” and said: “Those who infiltrate usually use the hottest slogans of the government, quickly accuse others, and put themselves behind the sacred fence to remain immune from any suspicion or criticism.” He added: “In no other period, as much as recent years, has the enemy been so close to internal elements. We have discovered spies whose reports have surprised and shocked their superiors.” (2) In

Therefore, if the goal was to combat infiltration, inspection stations should have been established not after the war and in the streets, but years ago, in the heart of the power structure and in the highest levels of government; where the main agents of infiltration, in complete calm, became decision-makers and path-makers. However, in the days after the end of the Iran-Israel war, inspection stations were expanded in Tehran, Kermanshah, Sanandaj, Zahedan, Ilam and other border areas. The forces of the Revolutionary Guards, Basij and the police, with military uniforms and armored vehicles, were stationed in the streets of most cities. Ordinary people, especially at night, were repeatedly subjected to physical searches, mobile phone checks and vehicle inspections. At the same time, arbitrary arrests intensified, and many of those arrested were imprisoned only for having a “suspicious appearance” or “passing without stopping” at inspection stations. It appears that the authorities were seeking to “prevent a wave of post-war protests,” rather than espionage, as security tools were directed not at strategic institutions, but at powerless and marginalized individuals in society.

Casualties in Darkness: A Tale from Hamedan.

One of the most tragic consequences of the securitized atmosphere following the twelve-day war was the “Tarik-Darreh of Hamedan” incident. In July 2025, IRGC patrol forces opened fire on a vehicle at a checkpoint on a side road in the Ganjnameh area of Hamedan. As a result, two young men from Hamedan, Mehdi Abaeii and Alireza Karbasi, were killed on the spot, and a third, Mohammadreza Saberi, was severely wounded.

Security agencies and affiliated media outlets, such as Fars News Agency, quickly released an official account of the incident—without presenting any reliable evidence or witnesses—implicitly labeling the victims as “Mossad agents” and “drone operators.” However, a widespread wave of public skepticism, anger, and a massive turnout at the funeral held in Behesht-e Zahra cemetery in Hamedan soon challenged this official narrative. The victims’ families, through accounts published on Mehrdad Maher’s Instagram page (@mehrdadmaher4), firmly rejected the espionage allegations in detail.

Under pressure from this social outcry, security institutions were forced to retreat. On July 1, 2025, the head of the Judicial Organization of the Armed Forces in Hamedan Province announced that those who had opened fire had been arrested and were under judicial supervision. Yet this retreat was not an act of accountability—it was the result of public pressure. Had the families remained silent, had social media not questioned the state narrative, the truth would never have come to light.

Now that the real story has emerged, and it is clear that two unarmed citizens were shot without warning, a deeper question arises: Will those responsible actually be prosecuted and punished in accordance with the law? Or, like dozens of similar cases, will this be shelved with promises of “investigation,” only to vanish into silence?

The Islamic Republic has repeatedly turned to security-driven narratives to portray victims as the culprits when facing structural violence. But this tactic is nothing new. For decades, the official narrative has not served as a tool of clarity, but as a tool of justification for repression. Wasn’t the same pattern repeated during the Mahsa (Jina) movement? Didn’t the regime, instead of being accountable, accuse Mahsa Amini and her family? Didn’t the same broken narrative resurface in the deaths of Sarina Esmailzadeh, Nika Shakarami, and dozens of other young people across the country?

The killings of Mahsa, Sarina, and Nika are only part of a broader repression. Names like Milad Zareh, Mohsen Gheysari, Hananeh Kia, Erfan Rezaei, Mohammad-Hossein Morvati, and others illustrate the deeper extent of this tragedy—young people full of hope, answered with bullets, simply for shouting: “No to violence, no to lies.”

In the face of this cycle of bloodshed and denial, a final question remains unanswered: If security is achieved only through elimination and death, is it truly security—or merely the shadow of death looming over society? If the Islamic Republic seeks not to address the root causes but to silence dissent, can it still claim any legitimacy for its concept of security?

In a country where the lives of citizens are so exposed and so vulnerable to fabricated narratives, security is no longer a public right—it is an extension of the politics of repression.

Inspection stop or suppression station?

The true function of these checkpoints must be understood through the lived, everyday experiences of citizens. Eyewitness reports clearly show that during these inspections, people’s mobile phones are searched without any judicial warrant. In border regions, residents are often subjected to verbal humiliation, ethnic slurs, and repeated threats. Officers—many of whom are untrained and unaccountable—routinely threaten to detain citizens or impound their vehicles over the slightest protest. In practice, this has turned into a form of “institutionalized lawlessness,” where an armed officer can, with no oversight, decide who is suspicious and who deserves punishment.

The reality is that the widespread and growing presence of armed forces in cities and on roads not only fails to provide a sense of psychological security but directly leads to anxiety, distrust, and fear among the public. For many citizens, passing through a checkpoint is not a reassuring experience but a tense and humiliating ordeal—especially for ethnic and religious minorities and young people, who are targeted solely because of their appearance or style of dress.

What we are witnessing on the streets and roads today is the result of a distorted logic of governance. After its intelligence failure during the twelve-day war, the state, instead of reforming its intelligence structures and being accountable to the public, has turned checkpoints into tools of fear, control, and internal repression. These checkpoints are less a sign of order than a symbol of a ruling power that, rather than rebuilding trust, destroys it at the root with armed force.

The central question in this context is: Does security justify injustice? The prevailing mindset within the Islamic Republic assumes that during times of crisis, fundamental rights can be suspended. But modern Iranian history—and that of many other societies—has shown that when security replaces justice, neither the security lasts, nor the regime retains its legitimacy.

If the government is truly concerned about infiltration and security threats, its first step should be to cleanse the corrupt institutions and ineffective networks within its own security apparatus—not to target environmentalist youth or ordinary travelers on the roads of Kurdistan, Hamedan, and Sistan. A country whose security forces are quicker to open fire on its own citizens than to protect them is clearly rotting from within.

The post-war checkpoints are less a response to an actual threat than a reflection of a legitimacy crisis and political deadlock. What happened in Tarik-Darreh of Hamedan is a serious warning about a dangerous trend: the normalization of violence in the name of “security.” A trend that, instead of ensuring peace and the rule of law, targets the lives of defenseless citizens.

The continuation of this situation will not only further erode public trust but may trigger a new wave of protests, deepen national distrust, and worsen social fragmentation. In such a context, restoring public trust is not just a recommendation—it is a vital necessity for survival. A government that wishes to restore legitimacy must take at least the following minimum steps: offer a clear response to the victims’ families, disclose the identities of the responsible officers, immediately halt illegal searches, and strictly prohibit the arbitrary use of firearms at checkpoints. Otherwise, these checkpoints will become the starting point of an end.


Notes:

1- Alavi: The issue of “infiltration” has become more serious than before.

https://www.tabnak.ir/
News Code: 627347. Date of Publication: 08 Mehr 1395. 29 September 2016

2- https://donya-e-eqtesad.com/
Newspaper Issue Number: 4689 Publication Date: 2019/08/26  News ID: 3564217

3- Former Minister of Information: Mossad has infiltrated Iran, a video of Ali Younesi, former Minister of Information, talking about Mossad’s infiltration in the country.

https://ifilo.net/v/gPjy6sZ

4- What was the story behind the shooting in the Hamedan security patrol? From the Fars News Agency Telegram channel.

5- From the Telegram channel of Mehrdad Maher…

6- Head of the Judicial Organization of Hamedan Armed Forces: Suspects in the shooting case in Tarkhderah have been arrested.

https://irna.ir/xjTXXr


Written by Reza Harisi
Originally published in Khat-e Solh (Peace Mark) monthly magazine on July 23, 2025.