IranWire

A French citizen who spent nearly two years in Iran’s Evin Prison has written a tribute to Pedram Madani, an Iranian prisoner executed this week.

Louis Arnaud was released from Evin Prison last year after serving time on alleged charges of "propaganda against the Islamic Republic and disturbing public security."

He had been arrested during a backpacking trip through Iran that coincided with nationwide protests in 2022.

Madani was executed just one day after his mother released a video pleading for his life, citing legal flaws in the case and calling for a judicial review.

He was arrested in 2020 on espionage charges.

Although Iran’s Supreme Court overturned his death sentence three times, lower courts repeatedly reinstated the execution order.

In an article for IranWire, Arnaud remembered Pedram Madani as his brother.

Read Arnaud’s article below.

There are days that can only be written in tears.

Today, Pedram Madani has passed, swept away by a regime stripped of honor. One more innocent, cloaked in false betrayal, cast down into the dust.

It is a deep sorrow for all who loved him, and a bitter loss for the world — robbed of a man who reminded it what greatness truly is.

For Pedram was not just a political prisoner, not merely another victim, nor the scapegoat of a mad power.

He was my master in the art of wood, my companion of soul, my refuge. He, who knew how to reignite the embers of my smile. He taught me how to be a man, and carved for me the paths of virtue, of courage, of dignity.

He was strength in its most sacred form—the kind that cradles, that carries, that does not bend. Only once did I see his tears fall: for the father he was never allowed to bury. Even that final farewell, the demons stole from him. Too dangerous, they said. And I understand. Their darkness could not bear the radiance of his goodness.

He bore within him a nobility no filth could stain. They tried to break him, to sully him, to reduce him to their own ugliness. But in vain. Even pain could not teach him hatred. They tortured his flesh, but his soul slipped through their hands, untouched by their violence.

He was that rare and boundless mercy, offered even to those unworthy of it. Always ready to reach out, even to his tormentors, as to lost brothers. To injustice, he offered with grace. To hatred, with forgiveness. For Pedram was not truly of this earth. He was of those luminous beings who walk among us briefly, to light our way, and then return to the source of their flame.

He was my father, my guide, my anchor, my brother.

I longed, selfishly, to keep him for myself. Yet how I wish you had crossed his light amid our shadows, felt the quiet power of his presence, the peace he radiated, the gentleness of his gaze.

What a privilege, my brother. What an honor to have walked beside you, to have shouldered even a silver of your burden, to carry your story within my own. Your mere presence gave meaning to my wounds.

If only you had seen the rising of those who loved you, this human tide lifting itself to your defense. From Tehran to Washington, from Paris to Montreal, from London to Melbourne, from Madrid to Oslo. How I wish you had known how fiercely we tried to be worthy of you.

But do not fear. We will not let them profane your memory. Your face may have vanished from the world, but it still burns on in our hearts. We are the keepers of your legacy, and we will ensure it lives beyond us.

Farewell, my friend.