I was tortured by Khomeini's regime. This war is still unjust

Since the news that a girls’ elementary school in Minab had been hit on 28 February during ongoing US-Israel military attacks on Iran, the incident has received little sustained attention in Western media. This is despite local sources reporting scores of children among the dead and wounded, most of them primary school pupils. Days later, strikes were also reported near medical facilities in Tehran.

For people inside Iran the incidents are part of a growing sense that civilian life itself has become a target.

At the same time, Iran is experiencing one of the most politically volatile moments in its modern history. The death of Ali Khamenei has been met with conflicting reactions. It might feel strange to people of other countries, to see Iranians dance under bombs after hearing of his death, but I understand. Khamenei presided over a system built on imprisonment, torture, executions and the crushing of dissent.

For so many of us, me included, we wanted Khamenei and his henchmen to face justice in a courtroom, on trial for decades of crimes, repression and killings. I never wanted to see them killed by foreign forces but confronted by the families of those he helped destroy.

The death of Khamenei does not erase the crimes of the system he led. That structure must be dismantled, and those responsible should be held accountable through fair trials.

For survivors, this is not symbolic. Justice is how we reclaim our dignity and our agency. When change comes through foreign bombs instead of the will of the people, it sends the message that we were never capable of shaping our own future.

And none of this can justify foreign military attacks that kill innocent people. The death of one man does not legitimise the bombing of a country, the destruction of infrastructure, or the killing of children. Justice cannot be delivered by missiles.

Iran should be governed by the collective will of its people – not by force, and not by a figure selected or imposed by the United States or Israel. Real justice cannot be outsourced to foreign powers.

As someone who survived arrest, imprisonment and torture in Iran, one development is particularly terrifying. Reports indicate that Iranian authorities are transferring political prisoners from Evin Prison. For former prisoners like me, this is an unmistakable warning sign.

History tells us what can happen next. When the Iran-Iraq war began in 1980, prisoners were quietly executed. In 1988, following the end of that war, more than 5,000 political prisoners were killed in mass executions after summary proceedings. Many were buried in unmarked graves. Families were never told the truth.

I fear that, once again, prisoners are at risk of becoming invisible victims of war – people who can be killed without witnesses, without accountability, while the world looks elsewhere.

Western governments often claim that military intervention brings freedom. People in the Middle East know this is not true. We have seen what war did to Iraq, to Afghanistan. We know that authoritarian regimes use war as a cover for repression, and that foreign powers are rarely interested in self-determination.

Iran does not need a ruler chosen by Washington or Tel Aviv. It does not need exiled strongmen or armed factions imposed as “alternatives”. It needs a political future shaped by its own people – without bombs overhead and without prisons filling up.

People in Iran have been living under a constant psychological threat of war for years. Last year, they experienced a taste of it firsthand; now civilians are being killed without any say in the matter.

Internet access in Iran is again severely restricted, leaving families inside and outside of the country struggling to contact loved ones, desperate for news of who is alive, who has been arrested, or who has simply disappeared. The fear is compounded by memories of past atrocities, like 40 days ago when the regime violently suppressed protests reportedly killing tens of thousands of people simply for asking for bread and freedom.

Life feels suspended, and uncertainty hangs over every household.

This war must stop. And while people in Iran have little power to halt it, people in countries like the UK do. These wars are waged in your name, with your tax money, by governments that claim to represent you. Protest matters. Pressure matters. Silence is read as consent.

This illegal war does not only threaten those on the frontlines in the Middle East. Every act of aggression destabilises the region, fuels cycles of violence, and makes all of us less safe. Stopping this war protects lives everywhere, not just in Iran.

Nasrin Parvaz is an activist and author. Her works include ‘One Woman's Struggle in Iran, A Prison Memoir’ (Award-Winner in the Women’s Issues category of the 2019 International Book Awards), and ‘The Secret Letters from X to A’, (Victorina Press 2018). Nasrin has also written for The Guardian, The Morning star, LBC and Huck magazine among others.

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Opinions expressed in this article remain those of the author and do not necessarily represent those of The New Arab, its editorial board or staff.