On Sunday, February 1, Iran published the names of 2,986 people who died during the protests that erupted across the country since the end of last month. The list, which does not distinguish between ages or genders, includes many women such as Maryam, Sara, Zahra, Zeynab, Parisa, Mahsa, Ziba, Somayeh, Nargess, Khadijeh, and Mina.

 

These names, numbering in the dozens, belong to some of the women who lost their lives in the unrest that marked a turning point in the history of the Islamic Republic. Fueled by the collapse of the rial and the spiraling inflation facing the state, the protests gave rise to a nationwide movement demanding the regime's overthrow.

 

Although the authorities have made this document public in a statement issued by President Masoud Pezeshkian's office, human rights organizations disagree with the figures: the Human Rights Activists News Agency, an Iranian NGO in exile, quantifies at least 6,842 deaths, in addition to 11,280 under investigation.

 

Faced with this repressive escalation, Iranian women have become the most visible face of social resistance. Their challenge to the regime has sparked a wave of international solidarity, which Magas joins through the With You #IranianWomen campaign, focusing on their struggle, resilience, and demands for rights.

 

Iran Heals Its Wounds
In addition to reports of deaths and arbitrary arrests, on January 8th the government almost completely blocked internet access for the country's 92 million inhabitants. The connection is slowly being restored, but tight control persists over what content is shared, how, when, and with whom. Meanwhile, the rest of the world watches in dismay.

This information blackout has not, however, prevented some isolated testimonies from crossing borders. In mid-January, one of them went viral after being shared by journalist Almudena Ariza: a phone conversation between a mother in Iran and her daughter.

The woman speaks between sobs. "Don't cry, my love. They've killed 12,000 people. We don't leave the house, we've fled," she says. She warns that the phones are monitored, that they can't talk, that "everything is very frightening, very, very frightening." She describes executions with heavy machine guns, the use of military weapons, empty streets, and closed businesses.

While her daughter begs her not to hang up, the mother insists on the danger of staying on the line. "If I talk, they'll come for us, darling. I'm 70 years old, I don't have the strength to resist. I have no choice. I just wanted to hear your voice and tell you we're still alive." She speaks of martial law, the fear of leaving the house, and constant surveillance that turns any movement into a threat.

The audio, brief and without images, became one of the most shared documents of those weeks because it gave voice—an anonymous and broken voice—to what statistics cannot explain: the daily fear, the forced isolation, and the feeling of living under a constant threat.

“The human rights situation in Iran has been grave for years, particularly due to the appalling pace of executions and the detention of human rights defenders, but now we are witnessing a different magnitude,” said Kaja Kallas, High Representative of the European Union for Foreign Affairs and Security Policy, on January 20.

The top diplomat argued that “citizens are fighting for a self-determined future and risking everything to be heard” and opened the door to increasing sanctions against the ayatollahs. The Spanish government, for its part, demanded an “immediate” end to the repression and restrictions on freedom of expression in the Persian Gulf country >>>