The Architecture of Repression: Calculating the Cost Before Speaking The Layers of the Islamic Republic’s Architecture of Repression

More than 47 years of creating fear, launching crackdowns, silencing voices, and fabricating cases under the Islamic Republic have completed the architecture of the violation of freedom of expression in Iran, to the extent that its function has not only been to imprison people, but also to make people censor themselves before they speak; otherwise, in many cases, the cost can be equivalent to their being rapidly sentenced to death in unfair courts.
As we have witnessed, particularly over the past 10 years, following every popular protest, many young people have faced charges such as “Moharebeh” (waging war against God), propaganda against the regime, insulting sacred beliefs, acting against national security, disturbing public opinion, and cooperating with hostile governments, simply for chanting a few slogans and setting fire to a garbage bin, publishing a video, photograph, or post about the protests, blocking a street with concrete, or writing slogans on walls at night. Each of these charges can result in their being put to death, including through a death sentence.
There are numerous examples of this kind. Mohsen Shekari, Sahand Nourmohammadzadeh, Behdad Eskandarnejad, and Ali Houshmandi are just a few examples of Iranians who, during the “Woman, Life, Freedom” protests, faced unfair trials and severe sentences, including execution.
In fact, laws, the judicial and security apparatuses, state media, internet controls, economic pressure, and social intimidation each complete a layer of this architecture of violating freedom of expression and seek to implement repression not only among artists, writers, journalists, and lawyers, but even to involve ordinary people and the families of protesters, expanding the circle of intimidation and suffocation every day and making it more widespread. In other words, throughout all the decades of its dictatorial rule, the Islamic Republic has sought to show everyone who can speak, about what, where, and at what cost.
Following the popular protests on 9 and 10 January 2026, the first means of international communication for Iranians was cut off, affecting people’s lives and businesses for months. Since then, although connectivity has been restored to some extent, the internet no longer has its real meaning, and people can only use it with difficulty and with the help of VPNs. The fact that, after months, many Iranians have been forced, despite their reluctance, to join domestic messaging platforms, and are still using or installing them, is indicative of their frustration with the ease of accessing global internet services, because even opening a foreign messaging application is difficult, or people have to bear additional costs to have a VPN that works without problems.
In fact, the Islamic Republic considers shutting down the internet at the slightest sign of protest to be the first means of creating an atmosphere of suffocation and ensuring its survival. Some describe this practice by the regime as the greatest violation of freedom of expression and the free flow of information, because in these past months many businesses have faced numerous problems, including difficulties generating income. One consequence alone has been the downsizing of workforces and unemployment among thousands of young Iranians-the government’s final blow to people’s hope, self-confidence, and livelihoods.
Another layer of control by the Islamic Republic and another blatant violation of freedom of expression is the censorship of the media, to the extent that, at least over the past 10 years, the media have completely lost their real position. During these years, many newspapers have been shut down and countless journalists and political activists have been arrested, resulting in the loss of public trust in domestic media. Of course, the hidden dimension of this action has been the frustration of the journalistic community with continuing their work, to the point that the regime’s creation of a one-dimensional media landscape has led many journalists, after years of working, to give up their professions in despair and choose another means of earning an income.
The arrests of Niloufar Hamedi and Elaheh Mohammadi following the “Woman, Life, Freedom” protests were just one example of the Islamic Republic creating fear among journalists; there are certainly many other reporters whose names were heard less frequently, or not at all. Covering Mahsa Amini’s tragic death in hospital and her funeral ceremony in Saqqez was one of the most basic duties of any journalist, a duty that every journalist, regardless of who they were, was expected to carry out. Yet, on 29 October 2022, the Ministry of Intelligence and the Intelligence Organization of the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps issued a joint statement identifying her and Niloufar Hamedi as agents of Western intelligence services and stating that they had attended courses on regime change and hybrid warfare in some countries-accusations that, under this regime, can each individually lead to severe sentences such as execution.
These case fabrications and the severe control of media outlets critical of the regime are another clear example of the violation of freedom of expression in Iran. Imprisonment, dismissal, professional exclusion, threats against family members, exile, and, in severe cases, the death penalty have for years blocked the path for members of this profession to continue their work.
Another prominent example of the violation of freedom of expression in Iran’s domestic media concerns Yalda Moayeri, a photojournalist whose 15-year prison sentence was imposed solely for sending images of the suppression of protests to foreign media outlets. She is currently unable to work as a journalist, and “prison” is the concern occupying her mind these days.
The Center for Human Rights in Iran (CHRI), in a report published on September 3, 2025, wrote: “The Islamic Republic remains one of the most dangerous countries in the world for independent journalism. Journalists who depart from the government’s official line in their reporting face threats, surveillance, the closure of offices, arbitrary detention, and judicial prosecution.” This issue exposes “serious harm to independent journalism” and “systematic repression.”
According to this report, the Islamic Republic goes even further. In this analysis, CHRI spoke with a journalist working inside Iran who explained: “After receiving a media license, a security official is appointed to supervise media activities. This supervision can also cover the individual’s social and political activities and public presence.” This explanation indicates that control over expression is not limited to published content and extends to the journalist’s professional and social life as well.
The journalist told CHRI in this report that “the opening of a case, summons, and conviction can lead to the loss of my job. Media owners also refuse to work with critical journalists because they fear having their licenses revoked; the result is a kind of self-censorship within the media themselves.” Accordingly, in the Islamic Republic’s architecture of repression, creating economic and professional costs for people active in this field plays a prominent role in severely destabilizing the foundations of the fourth pillar of democracy in Iran.
It is against this backdrop that freedom of expression in the media has virtually no place, even at its most basic level. In at least the past few years, some journalists have been forced to migrate because of threats to their lives or their inability to continue working independently within Iran’s media environment. This migration is not necessarily a personal choice; rather, it is the result of pressures created by security institutions and the media environment.
On the other hand, according to a report by Reporters Without Borders (RSF), Iran ranks 176th out of 180 countries in terms of press freedom-a position that places it among the countries with the worst press freedom conditions in the world.
The point is that although Article 24 of Iran’s Constitution guarantees freedom of the press, the country’s press laws have institutionalized the government’s ability to suppress through legal mechanisms. These laws allow for judicial prosecution on charges such as publishing false information, insulting the Supreme Leader of the Islamic Republic, propaganda against the regime, or endangering the Islamic Republic.
In fact, there is a deep gap between what Iran’s Constitution promises on paper and what the Islamic Republic’s official policies and mechanisms of implementation impose on freedom of expression in practice; a gap in which the legal right to expression itself becomes a tool for suppressing that very expression.
The other side of the coin is the violation of freedom of expression manifested in the Islamic Republic’s severe security-oriented treatment of ethnic and religious minorities, including Baha’is, Kurds, Baluchis, Arabs of Iran, and other marginalized groups. For example, the United Nations Human Rights Office, in a report on August 5, 2024, emphasized that ethnic minorities, particularly Kurds and Baluchis, have been disproportionately affected by human rights violations in Iran.
In practice, this security-oriented approach blurs the boundary between ethnic identity, the right to protest, and freedom of expression. In other words, the expression of ethnic and civil demands can be met not by being heard, but with security labels and repressive measures.
The violation of freedom of expression among ethnic and religious minorities has also affected Baluchis and Kurds. According to a report submitted by the UN Secretary-General on the human rights situation in Iran in June 2025, among the recorded executions in 2024, at least 108 Baluch prisoners and 84 Kurdish prisoners were among those executed. This is where the connection between security-related charges, the repression of ethnic minorities, and restrictions on political and civil activity can be clearly understood.
All of this is happening while the Islamic Republic has spent decades attempting to define and implement its architecture in such a way that, in its view, the most successful system of systematic censorship is not one that imprisons everyone; it is one in which people censor themselves before they speak. In fact, this system is defining what an Iranian can say and how much it will cost them to say it.
In Iran, the scope of the violation of freedom of expression is not limited simply to closing a newspaper, filtering a platform, or arresting a journalist. Over the decades, a combination of legal, security, judicial, economic, and media tools has taken shape, increasing the cost of speaking freely for a large part of society. From protesters and ordinary citizens to journalists, artists, lawyers, and members of ethnic and religious minorities, the boundaries of permissible expression have continually been defined and redefined through security mechanisms.
Within such a structure, repression is not necessarily successful when an individual is sent to prison; it is more successful when the fear of imprisonment, losing one’s job, threats against one’s family, or judicial consequences forces a person into silence before publishing a piece of news, expressing an opinion, or recording an image. For this reason, one of the most serious consequences of restrictions on freedom of expression in Iran is the expansion of self-censorship and the gradual weakening of the possibility of forming a free public sphere.
What is certain is that the Islamic Republic has defined the circle of suffocation for itself in this way: freedom of expression does not disappear only when it closes people’s mouths; it can suppress more deeply when society calculates the cost of speaking before anyone has even silenced them.