This may be the last time you hear my voice
In the aftermath of January's uprising and February's foreign military strikes, Iran has turned to the death penalty as an instrument of political consolidation, executing at least 32 people on security-related charges in a matter of months. The United Nations and human rights organizations have documented a sharp acceleration in executions carried out without fair trials, often following torture-extracted confessions, and frequently targeting ethnic and religious minorities. This is not merely a legal phenomenon but a language of power — a state communicating its continued authority to a population it fears. History has seen this pattern before: when governments feel most threatened, they reach most violently for control.
- Iran's execution rate for political prisoners has surged to a pace that may exceed all of 2025's total within the first five months of 2026, signaling a deliberate escalation rather than routine enforcement.
- Prisoners are arrested on fabricated espionage or protest-related charges, subjected to months of torture and solitary confinement, and forced into confessions that then become the basis for death sentences.
- Executions are carried out at dawn, often in secret, with families and lawyers given no warning — some deaths are broadcast on state television, others vanish without announcement.
- Human rights organizations warn that ethnic and religious minorities are disproportionately targeted, and that the judiciary has explicitly rejected international legal standards as irrelevant to its proceedings.
- Analysts describe the executions as a calculated display of state power during a moment of acute vulnerability — a regime using death to project the authority it fears it is losing.
A voice recording reached human rights monitors from Oromiyeh Central Prison in western Iran. In it, Mehrab Abdollahzadeh spoke quickly, insisting his charges were false, that his confession had been beaten out of him. Weeks later, he was hanged. His death is one of at least 32 documented by the United Nations since late February — a figure that already approaches the 45 political executions Amnesty International counted across all of 2025.
The timing reflects a deliberate strategy. January brought an uprising that Iranian authorities crushed with lethal force, killing thousands. February brought US-Israeli military strikes. Facing simultaneous internal unrest and external pressure, the government has turned to the death penalty as a tool of political control. Arrests follow vague charges of espionage or protest involvement. Trials are rushed. Confessions emerge after torture. Executions happen without warning to families or lawyers.
Sasan Azadvar was twenty-one years old, a karate champion from Isfahan who broke a police car window during January's protests. He was convicted of 'waging war against God' and executed — having killed no one. Erfan Shakourzadeh, twenty-nine, a graduate student in aerospace engineering, was hanged on May 11th after allegedly confessing to sharing intelligence with foreign powers. A note attributed to him described eight and a half months of torture before he signed. 'Do not let another innocent life be taken in silence,' it read.
Human rights monitors note that executions fall disproportionately on ethnic and religious minorities. Iran's judiciary head has dismissed international objections outright. Last year, Iran carried out 2,159 executions total — the highest since 1989 — but the current surge in political cases is something analysts describe as new and accelerating.
Mehrab Abdollahzadeh spent forty-two months on death row after being arrested during the 2022 protests following Mahsa Amini's death. In his final message, he described how condemned prisoners find only a sliver of peace after 1am, when exhaustion finally overtakes dread. He was executed without notice to his family. His body was not returned to them. The machinery of the state moved on, indifferent to his voice, to his innocence, to the fact that he had spoken at all.
The voice on the recording is thin and urgent, crackling through a prison phone line from somewhere in western Iran. Mehrab Abdollahzadeh speaks quickly, as though aware that time is collapsing. "This may be the last time you hear my voice," he says. He is calling from Oromiyeh Central Prison, and he is telling whoever listens that the charges against him are false, that confessions were beaten out of him, that he is innocent. A few weeks after that recording reached human rights monitors, he was hanged.
Mehrab's death is one thread in a pattern that has become impossible to ignore. Since late February, when the United States and Israel launched military strikes against Iran, the United Nations has documented the execution of at least 32 people convicted on political or security charges. That number alone represents a dramatic acceleration. In all of 2025, Amnesty International counted 45 such executions across the entire country. Already this year, Iran is on pace to exceed that figure by a significant margin, and we are only halfway through May.
The timing is not coincidental. In January, Iran experienced an uprising that authorities crushed with lethal force, killing thousands. The military strikes in February followed. Now, as the government confronts what analysts describe as multiple simultaneous crises—internal unrest, external military pressure, damaged credibility—it has turned to the death penalty as an instrument of control. The pattern is systematic. People are arrested on vague charges of espionage, collaboration with foreign powers, or involvement in protests. Trials are rushed. Confessions emerge after periods of torture and solitary confinement. Executions follow, often without warning to families or legal representatives. Some are announced on state television. Others happen in silence.
Sasan Azadvar was twenty-one years old, a karate champion from Isfahan. During January's protests, he broke a police car window with a stick and asked for petrol to set it on fire. For this, he was convicted of "waging war against God" and sentenced to death. He had not killed anyone. Under international law, execution without a lethal crime is prohibited. State television broadcast his confession anyway. The judiciary head, Gholamhossein Mohseni Ejei, later dismissed international objections, saying Iran's courts would not be swayed by outside pressure.
Each case carries its own weight. Erfan Shakourzadeh was twenty-nine, a graduate student in aerospace engineering. He was hanged on May 11th after being convicted of sharing classified information with Israeli and American intelligence agencies. A note attributed to him, published by the Norway-based Hengaw human rights organization, described eight and a half months of torture and solitary confinement before he signed a false confession. "Do not let another innocent life be taken in silence," the note read. Human rights monitors have documented a disturbing pattern: the death penalty falls disproportionately on members of Iran's ethnic and religious minorities.
According to Amnesty International's Nassim Papayianni, Iranians are waking to near-daily announcements of executions. Hangings occur at dawn. Some are publicized; others are not. The UN Human Rights Office has expressed concern that executions are happening in secret, with no transparency and no opportunity for legal challenge. Last year, Iran carried out 2,159 executions—the highest number since 1989. Most were for drug offenses or murder. But the surge in political executions is new, and it is accelerating.
Kaveh Kermanshahi of the Kurdistan Human Rights Network describes what he sees as a deliberate strategy. The regime, he argues, is attempting to restore its authority and project strength at a moment when it appears vulnerable. "At a time when it is confronting multiple internal and external crises, it is attempting, through intensified repression and an increase in executions, to stage a display of power," he said. The message being sent is simple: I am still here. I still control.
Mehrab Abdollahzadeh was arrested in 2022 during the nationwide protests that followed Mahsa Amini's death in police custody. He spent forty-two months on death row. In his final voice message, he described the psychological torment of waiting for execution—the way a condemned person lies awake each night wondering if this will be the moment guards arrive. "A condemned person can only find a sliver of peace after 1am at night, perhaps letting go of their racing thoughts to sleep for two or three hours," he said. He was executed without warning to his family or his lawyers. His body was not returned to them. The Kurdistan Human Rights Network confirmed his death. The broader machinery continued, indifferent to his voice, to his innocence, to the fact that he had spoken at all.
Citações Notáveis
At a time when it is confronting multiple internal and external crises, it is attempting, through intensified repression and an increase in executions, to stage a display of power and project the message: 'I am still here, and I still control the situation.'— Kaveh Kermanshahi, Kurdistan Human Rights Network
The Islamic Republic continues its systematic repression of the population by arbitrarily accusing dissidents and critics of being 'Israeli spies' without presenting credible evidence or guaranteeing fair trial standards.— Aywar Shekhi, Hengaw human rights organization
A Conversa do Hearth Outra perspectiva sobre a história
Why is Iran executing political prisoners now, specifically? What changed in February?
The US and Israel attacked Iran on February 28th. But the real pressure started in January—there was an uprising that killed thousands. The government's image was damaged. Now it's using executions to show it's still in control, to instill fear, to make people think twice before dissenting.
But these aren't random people. You mentioned minorities, students, protesters. Is there a pattern to who gets executed?
Yes. The death penalty is being weaponized against specific groups—ethnic minorities, people accused of spying for Israel or the CIA, people who participated in January's uprising. The charges are often fabricated. Torture produces confessions. Then execution follows.
How do we know the charges are fabricated?
Because people like Erfan Shakourzadeh—a twenty-nine-year-old aerospace engineering student—left notes saying they were tortured into false confessions. Because Sasan Azadvar, a twenty-one-year-old, was executed for breaking a police car window, which under international law doesn't warrant a death sentence. Because trials are rushed, there's no transparency, and families don't even get warning before executions happen.
So the UN is tracking this. What are they saying?
They've verified at least 32 political executions since February. They're concerned that others are happening in secret. They're warning that the death penalty is being used to silence dissent. But Iran's judiciary head dismissed international criticism outright.
What happens next?
The UN fears the number of executions this year will be even higher than last year's 2,159. Human rights groups are warning that many more lives are at risk. The machinery is accelerating, and there's very little stopping it.