Forty Days After the January 8–9 Killings: Mourning, Protest, and Security Tensions Across Iran
40 days after the bloody crackdown of January 8 and 9, memorial ceremonies for those killed during the protests have reshaped cemeteries and public spaces into spaces of grief and political expression
Forty days after the bloody crackdown of January 8 and 9, memorial ceremonies for those killed during the protests have reshaped cemeteries and public spaces across Iran into renewed arenas of grief, remembrance, and political expression. In Iranian culture, the fortieth day after a death — known as Chehelom — carries profound religious and social meaning. Rooted in longstanding Shi’a mourning traditions, the fortieth day is not simply a memorial marker but a moment of collective reckoning, when families, friends, and wider communities gather to reaffirm shared memory and moral solidarity with the deceased. Historically, fortieth-day ceremonies in Iran have also served as powerful catalysts for social and political mobilization, transforming private sorrow into public presence. This year, that historical resonance has been particularly evident.
A widely circulated video from the fortieth-day ceremony of Hooman Sabbagh, who was killed by gunfire on January 8 in Lahijan, shows his mother reading from the Shahnameh, reciting the passage in which Tahmineh mourns Sohrab, before being applauded by those in attendance. Her act reflects a broader evolution in mourning practices following the January events. In several cities, families chose not to observe conventional lamentation rituals. Instead, they sang beside graves, recited poetry, and in some instances even danced — reframing grief as a form of dignified remembrance and symbolic resilience.
As the fortieth day approached, gatherings were reported in Tehran (Behesht-e Zahra), Mashhad, Najafabad, Abdanan, Chalous, and Arak. In Najafabad, on 28 Bahman 1404, families assembled holding photographs of their loved ones and chanted slogans including, “This fallen flower has become a gift to the homeland” and “We did not give our lives to compromise; we will not praise a murderous leader.” In Mashhad, videos reportedly from the fortieth-day ceremony of Hamid Mahdavi, a firefighter killed during the protests, show participants throwing flowers into the street while chanting anti-government slogans such as, “For every one killed, a thousand stand behind them.” Images from the ceremony of Yousef Bakhshi, killed by gunfire on January 8 in Chalous and buried in Quchan, also show large crowds gathered in remembrance.
At the same time, reports describe a heavily securitized atmosphere across multiple cities. In Abdanan (Ilam Province) — a city that became symbolic during the January protests and witnessed some of the harshest confrontations — videos captured the sound of gunfire as mourners fled. Witnesses reported the extensive deployment of security forces who allegedly fired shots to disperse crowds. Residents described internet restrictions and a tense atmosphere, with chants of “Death to Khamenei” heard in public squares. In Arak, families of victims including Esmail Ganjgoli, Mehrdad (Matin) Moshtaqi, and Ehsan Akbari reported that security forces prevented or relocated fortieth-day ceremonies, citing “security considerations,” “restrictions,” and the closure of cemeteries.”
The government spokesperson stated that the president had placed “special emphasis on preserving calm in cemeteries” and insisted that “people should be allowed to hold ceremonies for their children in the way they wish.” Meanwhile, the General Staff of the Armed Forces announced it would organize official ceremonies marking what it described as the “Arbaeen of the martyrs of the recent American-Zionist sedition,” stating that such events would “disappoint the enemies of the country.” Iranian authorities have emphasized that the January unrest resulted in fatalities among both protesters and members of the police, security forces, the IRGC (Sepah), and other state-affiliated personnel. Official commemorations have therefore been framed not only as memorials for civilians but also as ceremonies honoring security personnel who lost their lives during the events.
Several Tehran newspapers devoted their front pages to the fortieth day commemorations. Jahan Sanat, under the headline “The Candles Will Not Be Extinguished,” observed that many of those killed were born in the 1990s and 2000s and described scenes of profound grief at Behesht-e Zahra cemetery. Shargh, in a report titled “Raha and Armin; Forty Days Later,” focused on two young victims aged 23 and 24, noting that many families either feared speaking publicly or were emotionally unable to do so. The daily Etemad reported that the government was planning official ceremonies and quoted reformist politician Mohammad Sadegh Javadi-Hesar as saying that grieving families must be able to commemorate their loved ones without fear.
The Coordinating Council of Teachers’ Trade Associations declared 29 Bahman a “day of public mourning in schools,” stating that “more than 230 children and teenagers; more than 230 unfinished dreams; more than 230 empty desks” remain as a deep wound on the conscience of society. The council criticized what it described as attempts at normalization and called on the public, where possible, to participate in fortieth-day ceremonies.
In recent remarks, Ayatollah Ali Khamenei divided those killed into three categories — security forces, bystanders, and those he described as having been “misled.” He stated that, aside from what he characterized as ringleaders allegedly supported by foreign enemies, the others were “our children” and deserving of prayers and forgiveness.
Forty days after the January 8–9 killings, Iran stands at a moment in which mourning and protest have become intertwined. Cemeteries — traditionally sacred spaces of private grief — have evolved into sites of public memory and civic expression. The fortieth day, deeply embedded in Iran’s religious and cultural tradition, has once again demonstrated its historical capacity to transform sorrow into collective presence, reflecting a society still navigating grief, tension, and unresolved narratives following what appears to be the most consequential and deadly confrontation between state and society to date.