Crime and the aftermath of the massacre on a national scale, a confidential report on street killings in Iran

The aftermath of the national massacre and the disclosure of the document of the massacre of thousands of Iranians on the orders of Khamenei, in an engineered silence, lifted another curtain on the crime of the Islamic Republic government against the people of Iran.

New and shocking reports from within the Islamic Republic’s security apparatus paint a picture that can no longer be simply described as “protest suppression.” According to a confidential report from the Revolutionary Guards’ intelligence organization to the Supreme National Security Council, what has taken place in Iran in recent weeks and months has been the largest street massacre in the country’s modern history; a massacre in which, according to the report, more than 36,500 people have been killed on the direct orders of Ali Khamenei. A confidential report leaked from the heart of the Revolutionary Guards’ intelligence organization.

The report also confirms that security forces have in some cases shot the wounded in hospitals, an act that is not only a gross violation of human rights, but also a clear example of crimes against humanity.

What is happening in Iran today, observers say, is a phase beyond repression. The Islamic Republic has entered a period that could be called “post-massacre,” a phase in which the government no longer even pretends to exercise restraint: “it kills, it buries, it rewrites narratives, and it cuts off communication.”

For more than two weeks, the country has been plunged into an engineered silence, a silence that is not the product of disorder but part of the machinery of power. The public internet, the main artery of modern life, has been reduced to rumors and fragments, and what remains are the “white” and selective networks that keep the government connected to itself and separate society from civic life.

This situation is often described externally as "unrest", but internally, it looks more like the beginning of a revolution at a bloody cost.

In this disconnected atmosphere, the calls from citizens inside Iran to “the program” have taken on a doubly important meaning. These calls are not rhetoric, they are struggles. Broken voices that cut through a heavy silence, asking a question that is no longer abstract: “What exactly does the world think it is watching?”

Ali from Mazandaran, in a call with “The Program,” said to the Islamic Republic’s repressive forces: “You don’t have to put down your weapons. No one is afraid of you.” He repeats this sentence, not to show courage, but as a fact.

Pouria from Shiraz said, “The protesters did not abandon even one wounded person and did not allow anyone to be left behind or left out.” His language is operational and speaks of a moral boundary: leave no one behind.

Bahram, from a working-class neighborhood in southern Tehran, explains why he took to the streets: “For my country and for my children.” Mahsa, from Najafabad, made a simpler request: “I want to tell the story of my city. In today’s Iran, telling the story of a city can be a crime.”

“You thought we were afraid,” says Alia from Bandar Abbas, “we’re not. We’re angry and waiting.” She repeats the sentence: “They think we’re afraid. We’re not. We’re angry and waiting.”

These sounds are reminiscent of the life of “Raha Bahlolipour,” a student who was shot dead by security forces near Tehran’s Fatemi Square on January 8. Raha was neither a leader, nor an organizer, nor a political figure. She was only interested in art and music. She had no slogan, but she was killed because she represented a way of life that the government feared.

He recorded names, the names of those arrested and those who disappeared. He recorded people as human beings, not numbers. He knew how repression began: not with bullets, but with elimination.

Tehran-based medical expert Navid Pezdiki paints a picture of hospitals collapsing under pressure: the presence of security forces in the wards, families scrambling for the slightest news, and staff pushed to the brink of moral collapse.

Statistics and estimates indicate that the number of deaths has exceeded 30,000, but the main issue is not the final number;
The government makes counting dangerous and then exploits this ambiguity.

The post-massacre era means: "Killing people is one stage, and proving the killing is the second stage of the battle."

There is no longer shock in the voices of the people, there is exhaustion. Violence that has been repeated so many times that it is predictable. But these same voices are the most dangerous thing for an authoritarian government: “documents, names, places and sequences of events.”

The calls, publication of photos, and videos continue, until more veils fall on the years of crimes committed by the Islamic Republic regime against the Iranian people and Iranian soil.