What began as a funeral for a human rights lawyer quickly transformed into a renewed wave of civic protest in Mashhad. In early December, Iranian human rights lawyer Khosro Alikordi was found dead in his office under circumstances described by his family and colleagues as ‘highly suspicious’.
Alikordi was a significant figure; he had spent years defending political prisoners, protesters arrested during the Women, Life, Freedom movement, and individuals prosecuted for peaceful dissent. He had also faced imprisonment for “propaganda against the state.” His death alarmed civil society networks within Iran.
The events that unfolded in Mashhad recently were not spontaneous nor isolated incidents of repression. Instead, they were part of a familiar and deliberate pattern in the Islamic Republic's long-standing strategy for controlling society: allowing a moment of collective emotion to surface and then swiftly criminalizing it under the guise of national security.
Despite the cold weather, short notice, and awareness of the risks involved in gathering, activists, lawyers, former political prisoners, and ordinary citizens traveled to Mashhad to attend his memorial. The presence of prominent figures such as Nobel Peace Prize laureate Narges Mohammadi and human rights lawyer Nasrin Sotoudeh lent national significance to the gathering. What began as a local funeral transformed into a civic moment in which grief merged with protest.
The state’s response was swift and predictable. Security forces intervened, arresting a significant number of attendees. To this day, the exact number remains unclear, and several detainees have been unable to contact their families. Reports indicate that those arrested are facing severe national-security charges, including accusations of espionage or collusion with foreign states, allegations that, under Iran’s legal system, carry devastating consequences.
Framing mourning as a threat
This situation is not merely repression; it constitutes a calculated legal and psychological strategy. By framing peaceful mourning and civic presence as threats to national security, the regime activates a formidable legal machinery. National-security charges in Iran are tried in Revolutionary Courts, where due process is minimal, trials are often closed, and outcomes are largely predetermined. The objective is not only punishment but also intimidation, sending a clear message that extends far beyond the detainees themselves.
Equally significant is the regime's effort to delegitimize these gatherings in the public mind. By portraying mourners as foreign-backed agents or tools of hostile governments, the state seeks to fracture solidarity and weaponize nationalism against civil society. Grief itself becomes suspect, and presence becomes a cause for guilt.
Anger bidden beneath silence
However, the events in Mashhad revealed something the regime struggles to control: the persistent social anger beneath the enforced silence.
Following the brief but intense Israel–Iran confrontation earlier this year, many external observers hastily predicted either the imminent collapse of the Islamic Republic or, conversely, the exhaustion of Iranian society. When mass protests did not immediately erupt following the war, some concluded that the population had chosen stability, or even alignment with the Supreme Leader, Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, over confrontation.
Mashhad challenges that narrative. A human rights lawyer, whose name was not widely known beyond activist circles, overnight became a national symbol. People showed up, slogans were direct, and the atmosphere was charged. This behavior does not suggest a society that has surrendered; rather, it indicates a society that feels constrained rather than convinced.
The regime appears to understand this tension. Its domestic strategy post-war has relied not on constant visible violence but on delayed punishment and bureaucratic repression. Gatherings are sometimes permitted, only to be followed days later by arrests, business closures, academic bans, and digital surveillance. Uncertainty itself becomes a tool of governance; no one knows which moment might return to haunt them.
At the same time, the state has escalated its use of exemplary punishment. Recent executions on vague espionage charges, often announced with minimal evidence, serve more as warnings than as justice. The execution of Aghil Keshavarz, who was recently put to death on accusations of spying for Israel, exemplifies this trend. Many Iranians recognize the pattern: when the Islamic Republic uncovers sensitive intelligence cases, it rarely publicizes them. Instead, it publicizes the executions of ordinary individuals, turning them into symbols of deterrence.
Mashhad also revealed another unsettling reality: the fragmentation of Iran’s opposition landscape, particularly abroad. Competing ideological narratives, monarchist, republican, reformist, revolutionary, emerge quickly during crises, often overshadowing the immediate needs of those within Iran who face arrest, torture, or worse. These divisions have historically weakened collective action, yet they may also reflect a society in transition, struggling to envision a united future.
Pegah Banihashemi is a legal scholar and journalist specializing in constitutional and international law, with a focus on Iran and Middle East politics.