Across Iran, the visible protests are only the tip of a horrifying iceberg. Former political prisoners are issuing urgent warnings: the true extent of the regime’s violence is unfolding within the walls of its prisons, a darkness largely unseen by the outside world.
Maryam Shariatmadari, a prominent voice from the “Girls of Revolution Street” movement, endured a year in prison for defying Iran’s mandatory hijab laws. She now speaks of a regime overwhelmed by the scale of current protests, resorting to chilling tactics. Eyewitness accounts describe security forces delivering “final shots” to wounded protestors, killing them instantly – a level of brutality unprecedented in nearly half a century.
The sheer number of detainees is straining the system to its breaking point. Authorities are reportedly using ambulances and food transport vehicles for arrests, a grim innovation in repression. Detention isn’t limited to prisons; schools are being repurposed, turning places of learning into holding cells.
Inside these facilities, systematic abuse is rampant. Beatings, arbitrary transfers, and the deliberate incitement of other prisoners to harass detainees are commonplace. Shariatmadari herself was subjected to a degrading body search under camera surveillance, knowing men were watching and listening.
Denial of medical care is another weapon. Shariatmadari waited nearly 24 hours for surgery after sustaining an injury, receiving treatment only after public pressure mounted. Her husband, journalist Mehdi Ghadimi, spent his detention almost entirely in solitary confinement, enduring twice-daily interrogations while blindfolded.
Ghadimi encountered a cross-section of Iranian society imprisoned for participating in the “Woman, Life, Freedom” movement – students, workers, and specialists. He witnessed particularly brutal treatment of those accused of supporting the former Pahlavi dynasty, beaten far more severely than others.
Having fled Iran in 2024, Ghadimi fears the current wave of detainees will face even harsher conditions, citing the judiciary chief’s public commitment to a hard line. Activist estimates suggest the number of detainees far exceeds reported figures, potentially surpassing 10,000.
Shabnam Madadzadeh, imprisoned during the 2009 uprising, relives the horrors as she watches the current protests unfold. The memories of extreme brutality and the looming threat of mass executions have resurfaced, chillingly familiar.
During the 2009 unrest, detention facilities were already overflowing, solitary cells packed beyond capacity. Interrogators routinely accused detainees of ties to the Mujahedin-e Khalq, justifying torture and beatings “to the point of killing.”
Madadzadeh recalls a chilling threat: “If we are going to be overthrown, we will kill all of you. We will leave no one alive.” The current internet blackout only amplifies the danger, obscuring the brutality occurring within prison walls.
She warns of a potential repeat of the 1988 mass executions of political prisoners, a horrifying possibility as the regime teeters on the brink of collapse. Young detainees are particularly vulnerable to forced confessions, mock executions, and threats of sexual violence.
The anguish extends beyond the imprisoned to their families, desperately searching detention centers, prisons, morgues, and cemeteries. This agonizing uncertainty, Madadzadeh emphasizes, is a form of torture in itself.
These former prisoners implore the world not to look away. They insist the international community must recognize the true voice of the Iranian people, united in their demand for regime change and a return to a society that respects human rights and dignity.
They warn that the open violence in the streets is a mere reflection of the atrocities occurring behind prison walls. Every moment of delay, they say, costs lives. Concrete action is needed – independent access to prisons and secret detention centers run by the IRGC and the Ministry of Intelligence is paramount.
Their collective testimony paints a harrowing picture: Iran’s prisons are the hidden front line of repression, a place where the unseen may be far more deadly than anything witnessed in the streets. The world must act, and act now, before more lives are lost to the darkness within.
