Tehran – I am at Behesht-e Zahra Cemetery, the largest burial site in Tehran, a generational resting place. Founded in 1963 (1342 in the Persian calendar), the cemetery, named “Behesht-e Zahra” after consultations with the city’s elders and merchants’ council at the late Shiyedah Madkansari house, has become a landmark in the capital’s history.
In 1979, Imam Khomeini, the founder of the Islamic Revolution, gave his first speech after returning to his hometown.
For several years after its establishment, the cemetery was not attracting much attention. However, as Tehran expanded, it became the city’s main burial site. Various districts of Tehran still have small local cemeteries and shrines, where social and economic factors influence burial choices. But Behesht-e Zahra continues to be the largest cemetery in Iran, home to graves for all walks.
It’s the morning of August 7th. A cool breeze is blowing. I use an online taxi service on my reporting site. The driver happens to be an employee of the Behesht-E Zahra organization and works as a driver for a funeral transport vehicle.
I ask him about the day of the war and how the martyrs and victims brought here. He says that burial work began a few days after the attack and martial arts. He talks about “the place of rest for the martyrs” (me’raj al-shohada). However, although his car was not used for martial artist transport, the term “Me’raj al-Shohada” still draws my attention.
At Behesht-e Zahra’s administrative office, one of the managers will tell you that around 250 martyrs from Tehran are buried in Section 42. The actual number of martyrs in Tehran is high, but some have been taken to their hometowns.
Section 42 is a square area next to the section of martyrs in the eight-year war with the Baasist regime in Iraq.
He explains that representatives of all involved organizations were gathered into a single unit called the “war headquarters” to facilitate and speed up the burial process for martyrs. The headquarters worked with the Burial Committee, the Ministry of Defense, the Martial Foundation and the Civil Registration Organization to maintain a dedicated morgue. He adds that the emptiness of Tehran at the time and the shock of the missile strike will not take place. Every effort by the organisation and the martialist committee was directed to ensuring the most dignified postponement possible.
Around 8am, a notable number of visitors began to pay tribute to the martial artists. Reading the Placard: This is Section 42. The same year when Imam Khomeini described the infants in their cradles as soldiers in the future struggle. It feels like this “cradle” will raise children and become soldiers of defense and resistance.
The grave is white. Green and red flags flapping in the wind – a colour lined with white, reminiscent of the flag of the Islamic Republic of Iran.
After reciting Fatiha on the grave and warmly thanking the martyr mother and family, I begin to talk to them and other visitors.
MARTYR Commander Javad’s mother pours out Rajabi, a disabled veteran in the aerospace division of the IRGC. “When I said goodbye to my son, I only told God.
Section 42 reflects the diversity of the Iranian people, namely the blend of occupation, background and even religious beliefs. Inside the gravestones are doctors, nurses, engineers, civil servants, drivers and students. All victims are victims of unjust wars imposed by invaders who claim that “it’s not a war with the people.”
From the two-month-old Rayan lying in his mother’s arms in eternal sleep, to the father and son, Martyr and Amir Ali Amini, the father and son, were buried together in their final resting place. This section will gradually fill up with more visitors. Family and fellow citizens are steadily participating. They comfort, pray, talk and comfort each other. Each shows kindness in its own way – serving snacks, offering dates with sorbets, talking to martial artists, and accepting martial artists’ families in tears and trembling voices. Here, the word “martist” is a badge of honor.
Among the visitors, I see young women wearing different styles. In town, you may not think that they will even visit the martyr’s graves. They walk in honor, sitting by the grave and whisper quietly. With all of its tragedy, the war has faced deep reality against the younger generations of Iran, changing its views on many things, including homeland, resistance and of course martialism.
The father of martian Hossein Tagi Kako told me: “My son wrote many times that he would never allow anyone other than a “mart teacher” and “leader soldier” to be carved on a gravestone.
The sound of elegy comes through speakers filled with both passion and sadness. I will meet the family of martyrs from the Saddam regime and the war. They understand more than anyone else what pain felt for martyrs of Israel’s recent attacks, and what it means to immobility, perseverance and resistance.
Beyond Section 42 there is a hospitality stand. Ask the young man who is offering the juice which organization he is in charge of.
“In charge? There’s no one there,” he replies. “We were here since the first day of burial. We were supposed to stay for up to 40 days, but many people have been over 50 days and we are still here.”
He stirs up a large pot of sorbet and pours a glass on me, adding, “We’ll be here until after Albain.”
Before I leave, I visit several more martyrs’ graves. I tell their mother that I came to work but I came to express my gratitude. These mothers are tall, resilient and proud – each responds with kindness and smiles, but are saddened.