Iranian authorities executed Mojahed (Abbas) Kourkour, a protester detained during the 2022 Woman, Life, Freedom uprising, who was convicted of charges including "enmity against God" and "corruption on earth" following a deadly incident in the southwestern city of Izeh.
The execution was announced on Wednesday, coinciding with the birthday of Kian Pirfalak, a 10-year-old boy who was killed during a violent episode in Izeh in November 2022.
Iranian officials had initially accused Kourkour of involvement in the child’s death, but later revised the charges without formally exonerating him of the killing.
According to the judiciary’s Mizan news agency, he “was sentenced to death and executed for drawing a weapon with intent to kill and intimidate the public, spreading corruption on earth through committing crimes by firing a military weapon, and forming and joining an armed group in rebellion against the state."
Kourkour’s execution proceeded despite widespread concerns raised by human rights groups and denials of wrongdoing by the victim’s family.
Disputed case and international outcry
Kourkour was arrested in December 2022 during a raid in the village of Persourakh near Izeh. The judiciary accused him of involvement in the shooting incident in the Izeh market on November 16, 2022, which resulted in the deaths of at least seven people, including Kian Pirfalak.
In April 2023, Revolutionary Court of Ahvaz convicted him on charges including enmity against God, corruption on earth, disturbing public order, and mass murder, sentencing him to death three times.
Although Iran’s Supreme Court initially overturned the death sentences in March 2024 and referred the case back for review, following procedural steps, the court reaffirmed the death penalties, which were ultimately upheld by the Supreme Court.
Human rights organizations, including Amnesty International, have criticized the legal proceedings, citing denial of legal representation, allegations of forced confessions, and the use of capital punishment as a political tool.
The family of Kian Pirfalak, whose death became a symbol of the 2022 protests, has consistently rejected the state’s narrative implicating Kourkour.
His mother, Mahmonir Molaei-Rad, and father, Meysam Pirfalak, have both publicly held security forces responsible for the shooting that killed their son and left the father severely injured.
In a widely circulated video, Meysam Pirfalak said: “We have no complaint against Mojahed Kourkour. We saw with our own eyes that security forces opened fire on our car.”
Kourkour is the 11th person executed in connection with the nationwide protests that erupted in September 2022 following the death of Mahsa Amini in police custody.
Among those previously executed are Mohammad Mehdi Karami, Mohsen Shekari, and Majidreza Rahnavard, all sentenced on similar charges.
Iran accounted for 64% of all known global executions in 2024, with at least 972 people executed, according to Amnesty International, in what the rights group says is the government's ongoing campaign of mass suppression of dissent.
Their accounts document a sprawling overseas network operating under direct orders from the Supreme Leader’s office and the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps intelligence arm well out of step with common diplomatic practice.
“Every embassy has a list. People to watch. People to engage. People to silence,” an Iranian former diplomatic employee told Iran International.
“It’s not foreign policy—it’s field execution,” another told Iran International. “The people sent abroad are on assignment, not appointment.”
Their account outlines a foreign service shaped not by diplomacy but by ideology, surveillance and illicit finance.
According to these individuals—whose names are withheld for their safety—Iran’s diplomatic missions double as intelligence gathering hubs tasked with tracking dissidents, surveilling student communities and delivering cash and equipment under the protection of diplomatic immunity.
UK authorities detained eight men in May, including three charged under the National Security Act for surveilling Iran International journalists on behalf of Tehran between August 2024 and February 2025.
It was not clear whether the charges related in any way to the Iranian embassy in London.
Iran’s foreign ministry denounced the charges as politically motivated, but former officials say such actions are core to the Islamic Republic’s overseas agenda.
Iran’s embassies maintain the outward structure of any diplomatic mission—ambassadors, attachés and advisers—but according to the sources, the roles often serve as cover.
“A person listed as a translator might actually coordinate funds for proxy groups,” said one of the former diplomats. “Titles are just for appearances.”
In one high-profile case, Iranian diplomat Asadollah Asadi used his status to transport explosives intended for an opposition rally in Paris. His 2021 conviction in Belgium exposed how far such dual roles can go.
Another ex-staffer recalled colleagues arriving in Istanbul and Baku with briefcases of undeclared dollars. “They know no one will search their bags,” he said.
Cultural attachés, especially those linked to the Islamic Culture and Communications Organization, are said to organize religious events abroad that double as screening grounds for potential recruits.
Germany shuttered the Islamic Center of Hamburg in July over its ties to Tehran and what the Interior Ministry called promotion of extremism and antisemitism.
The diplomatic corps itself, sources say, is dominated by the sons of clerics and system insiders.
“Your father is a Friday prayer leader? Your uncle is close to the Supreme Leader? You’re in,” said one.
Posts rarely align with professional background; language skills and experience are often secondary to loyalty.
Though often expelled or exposed, the structure endures. Loyal staff are rotated across continents with little interruption.
“Each post is a mission. If you complete it to the system’s satisfaction, you’re held in reserve for the next,” one former diplomat said.
The network’s reach is enhanced by front organizations. The Imam Khomeini Relief Foundation has been linked to Hezbollah financing. The Iranian Red Crescent has faced accusations of being used by Quds Force operatives for weapons transport. IRGC members have admitted posing as aid workers during the Bosnian war.
IRIB outlets—Press TV, Al-Alam, Hispan TV—have functioned as propaganda arms and intelligence fronts. France expelled one of their journalists in 2011 for spreading state messaging.
The Iranian Red Crescent and the IRGC officially denied these remarks, saying that any such actions were unauthorized and not representative of their organizations.
Despite the rhetoric of resistance, many live in luxury. One former ambassador’s Paris residence cost over €40,000 per month.
“They send their kids to secular schools while preaching Islamic values,” said another. Leaked records show senior envoys receiving up to $12,000 monthly, with generous stipends and ceremonial budgets.
“It’s both reward and insulation,” an ex-diplomatic employee said. “The system buys loyalty with luxury—and distances them from the reality of ordinary Iranians.”
What emerges is not a diplomatic corps, but a global extension of Iran’s security state—trained, titled, and deployed to safeguard the Islamic Republic, not represent it.