4 min readFeb 12, 2026 01:48 PM IST
First published on: Feb 12, 2026 at 07:12 AM IST
The story of the Bahá’is in Iran begins with courage — and loss. From the earliest days of the faith’s emergence in the mid-19th century, its followers were asked to pay a heavy price for believing in unity, justice, and the oneness of humanity. Ordinary men and women were the martyrs of the early heroic age, whose calm steadfastness in the face of brutality left an indelible mark on Iran’s collective conscience. That legacy of sacrifice has never faded. Across generations, whenever fear or upheaval has shaken the country, the Bahá’is have found themselves pushed into the role of the “Other”. Even in death, dignity has often been denied. Bahá’i cemeteries in Iran have been bulldozed, burial grounds confiscated, and graves desecrated, as if memory itself were a threat to be buried.
After the 1979 Islamic Revolution, persecution intensified and became systematic. Executions, imprisonments, and property confiscations spread fear through the community. Bahá’i institutions were dismantled. Access to higher education was denied. Generations of young people were told that belief alone disqualified them from opportunity. What had once been sporadic violence hardened into policy. Among the most enduring symbols of this suffering is Mona Mahmudnizhad, executed in Shiraz in 1983 at just 17 years of age. Mona’s crime was not violence or rebellion. She taught moral education classes to children. Offered freedom if she recanted her faith, she refused. Her youth, her composure, and her final letters turned her into a powerful symbol — not only for Bahá’is, but for many Iranians who saw in her story a stark illustration of injustice carried out in the name of ideology.
As the years passed, the form of persecution shifted. Mass executions gave way to quieter, grinding pressure. International observers documented what Iranian authorities themselves described as a policy aimed at the “quiet elimination” of the Bahá’i community. Arrests without cause, long prison sentences, economic strangulation, denial of education, and relentless propaganda replaced public violence. State media recycled false narratives that painted Bahá’is as traitors, spies, or moral threats — claims repeated so often they began to sound like fact.
Today, as Iran grapples with deep economic hardship, social unrest, and calls for justice and accountability, this familiar pattern has returned. In recent days, Iran’s Channel 2 state television has aired programmes filled with fabricated accusations against Bahá’is, reviving conspiracy theories long used to justify discrimination. These broadcasts have coincided with reports of renewed arrests and detentions of Bahá’is in several cities. Most disturbing was the airing, on February 1, 2026, of so-called “confessions” by two Bahá’is on Islamic Republic of Iran Broadcasting. Human rights groups have repeatedly documented how such confessions are extracted under pressure.
In brief remarks from Geneva, the Bahá’i International Community warned that this escalation fits a troubling historical pattern. When public anger and grief are high, Bahá’is are repeatedly singled out as convenient scapegoats — falsely accused and publicly vilified to divert attention from deeper failures. Yet through nearly two centuries of repression, the response of the community in Iran has remained strikingly consistent. There has been no call for revenge, no resort to violence. Instead, there has been an insistence on dignity, service, and hope. Even when denied education, Bahá’is have created informal learning spaces. Even when excluded from work, they have sought ways to contribute to society’s well-being.
The current wave of incitement is not only a threat to one community. It is a warning. History shows that when hatred against a minority is tolerated, injustice soon spreads beyond it. The stories of the early martyrs, of Mona, of desecrated graves, and of bodies withheld from burial are mirrors held up to the present. For Iran, the way it treats its most vulnerable communities remains a measure of its moral future.
The writer is secretary, Local Spiritual Assembly of the Bahá’is of Mumbai
