The pre-dawn light in Qom on March 19 provided the backdrop for the final moments of Saleh Mohammadi, Saeed Davoudi, and Mehdi Ghasemi. Arrested during the bloodiest days of the January 2026 anti-regime protests, the three young men were hanged in a public display that human rights monitors have labeled state-sanctioned murder. Their deaths mark the first official protest-related executions of the year, signaling a lethal shift in how the Islamic Republic intends to manage the domestic fallout of its current geopolitical crises.
This is no longer just about punishment. It is a calculated use of the gallows to neutralize a generation that has lost its fear. While the judiciary-affiliated Mizan News Agency framed the hangings as justice for the deaths of security personnel, the speed of the trials suggests a different motive. Saleh Mohammadi, a 19-year-old wrestler, was sentenced to death just three weeks after his arrest. In the world of Iranian revolutionary law, the time between a "crime" and the rope is shrinking as the state prioritizes speed over the pretense of due process. For another view, read: this related article.
The Architecture of a Forced Confession
To understand why these executions happened so quickly, one must look at the mechanics of the First Branch of the Qom Criminal Court. The "evidence" used to condemn Mohammadi and his co-defendants relied almost entirely on self-incriminating confessions. In court, Mohammadi testified that his statements were extracted through torture, including beatings that fractured his hands. The judge dismissed these claims without investigation, a standard operating procedure in cases involving moharebeh, or waging war against God.
The legal pipeline is designed to be frictionless. Once a protester is swept up in a mass arrest—with estimates suggesting as many as 40,000 were detained in January alone—they enter a system where the defense is often a court-appointed lawyer who works in tandem with the prosecution. The objective is a televised confession. These recordings are edited and broadcast to provide a veneer of legitimacy for the eventual execution. This cycle serves two masters: it justifies the crackdown to the regime’s dwindling base and warns the undecided majority that the cost of dissent remains terminal. Related insight regarding this has been shared by The Washington Post.
The Weaponization of the Death Penalty
The Islamic Republic has long used the death penalty as its primary tool for social engineering, but the 2026 surge is different in its demographic targeting. While drug-related offenses still account for a significant portion of hangings—often hitting marginalized ethnic minorities like the Baluch people—the political hangings are now focused on the youth who spearheaded the January unrest.
- Juvenile Defendants: At least three teenagers, including 17-year-olds Matin Mohammadi and Erfan Amiri, currently face death sentences upheld by the Supreme Court.
- Athletes and Public Figures: The execution of Saleh Mohammadi follows a pattern of targeting athletes, whose public profiles make their deaths more "effective" as a deterrent.
- Dual Nationals: The execution of Iranian-Swedish national Kourosh Keyvani on espionage charges just 24 hours before the Qom hangings shows the regime's willingness to use the gallows as leverage against international pressure.
Why the Regime is Hurrying
The urgency of these executions is tied to the regime’s internal instability. In January 2026, the protests were not just about social freedoms; they were fueled by a crumbling economy and the strain of ongoing regional conflicts. When the state feels its grip slipping, the judiciary accelerates. By shortening the gap between protest and execution, the authorities hope to disrupt the "martyrdom effect" where funerals become new sites of protest.
However, this strategy is hitting a wall of diminishing returns. In the past, an execution might have cleared the streets for months. Today, the reaction is often immediate and more radicalized. The 2026 massacres, which some hospital records suggest have claimed thousands of lives through direct fire and summary executions, have created a population that feels it has nothing left to lose.
The Illusion of Justice
The charges of qisas (retribution-in-kind) and moharebeh are applied with a flexibility that would be laughable if it weren't lethal. In the case of the three men in Qom, they were accused of killing police officers on January 8. The prosecution presented no forensic evidence or independent eyewitnesses. They relied on "confessions" and reports from the same security agencies that carried out the arrests.
International law strictly prohibits the execution of individuals whose trials do not meet the highest standards of fairness. Iran ignores these mandates, citing its own interpretation of Sharia law. Yet even within that framework, the denial of a defendant's right to an independent lawyer and the use of evidence obtained under physical duress are clear violations. The system isn't broken; it is functioning exactly as intended to protect the ruling elite.
A Growing List of the Condemned
The March 19 hangings were just the opening act for a busier spring for the hangman. In the six weeks following those deaths, at least 22 more political prisoners have been executed. The names represent a cross-section of Iranian society: Sasan Azadvar Junaqani, a 21-year-old athlete; Erfan Kiani; and Mohammadreza Majidi-Asl.
Many of these executions are now carried out in secret. Families are often notified only after the burial has taken place, a tactic designed to prevent the public mourning ceremonies that historically ignite further unrest. This "stealth execution" phase indicates a regime that is wary of the very fear it tries to instill. It wants the deterrent of the death penalty without the volatility of the public funeral.
The international community’s response has remained largely performative. UN rights chiefs issue warnings and legal groups call for releases, but the "execution machine" continues to run because the internal cost of stopping—the perceived loss of control—is greater than the external cost of sanctions. For the dozens of protesters still on death row, including those in Urmia and Tehran's Revolutionary Courts, the window for intervention is closing. The state has moved from crowd control to a policy of elimination.
The gallows in Qom were not just for three men; they were a message to the millions who stayed home in January. But as the names of the dead continue to mount, the message being received is not one of submission, but of an inevitable, violent reckoning. There is no middle ground left when the state decides that its survival is worth the lives of its children.
