Independent journalist
Ankle monitors once reserved for criminals in Iran are now imposed on activists, turning what is billed as an alternative to prison into a source of humiliation, financial strain and invisible confinement.
“These devices should be used on thieves and fraudsters, not for a teacher who simply demanded her union rights,” says one teacher and union activist.
She recounts how, in the silence of the night, the short beep of her device awakens her five-year-old daughter—a constant reminder that miles away, someone is watching. Barred from stepping more than a kilometer from her home, she must wear the virtual shackle at all times.
She is one of dozens of teachers, artists, students, writers, members of religious minorities and labor activists who, after months or years in prison, now serve the remainder of their sentences under electronic surveillance.
Their names have been withheld due to the likelihood of official retaliation for telling their stories.
The devices are fastened to the leg and tracked around the clock by Iran’s Prisons Organization. In theory, they modernize punishments and reduce prison costs. In practice, they are applied not only to financial, drug or theft offenders but increasingly to civil and political activists.
Bruised—and paying for it
“I am having to pay just to have a shackle strapped to my leg,” one activist remarks.
For many, the devices are humiliating, painful, and financially crushing. Lawyers describe them as tools of harassment, combining physical restriction with constant control.
The locally manufactured monitors are poorly designed: heavy, sharp-edged and often causing wounds or inflammation.
To add insult to injury, users must pay for their shackle: an upfront fee of about $25 and roughly $9 a month thereafter—sums that weigh heavily on activists who are out of work or barred from working.
Restricted lives
“From the hairdresser to the grocery store, people call me a hero and say: ‘Respect for your courage.’ But I’m glad my mother isn’t alive to see me wearing this shackle,” says a female teacher."
The devices typically restrict movement to a 1,000-meter radius around the home, though the exact distance is determined by a judge. The impact is immediate: disrupted jobs, missed family events, lost opportunities and even obstacles to medical care.
Protest singer Vafa Ahmadpour, known online as Vafadar, announced that he lost the chance to travel to the US as an honorary judge at an arts festival because of his ankle monitor.
Some wearers try to hide the device under socks or trousers to avoid stares. Others leave it visible and say most reactions are sympathetic.
Arbitrary power
Some lawyers say monitors allow prisoners to return to a normal life, but others stress the selective and arbitrary way monitors are used against protesters.
“In other countries, these devices are used for actual financial or violent crimes; but in Iran, they’ve become tools for controlling and humiliating protesters and civil defenders and union activists,” says another.
He notes that law enforcement agencies wield wide discretion in deciding who qualifies and under what conditions—leaving activists especially vulnerable.
The stigma of ankle monitoring often blocks people from resuming their jobs. Some have even been forced to move homes so their workplace remains within the permitted radius.
“After my release, the school principal said I needed an official letter from the judge to return to teaching,” a teacher explains. “The judge confirmed I wasn’t legally banned from working, but the school still refused to take me back. I suspect the Intelligence Ministry put pressure on them.”
An invisible prison
Another teacher describes the constant anxiety: “Even going for a jog in the park makes me anxious. Once, I stepped outside the boundary. At 6:30 in the morning, they called and threatened to send me back to prison.”
It’s a recurring theme in conversations with those wearing monitors.
“I went out to buy a book I loved. At the intersection, the device beeped—I remembered I wasn’t allowed to cross. I looked at the book with longing and turned back,” says one author.
“The painful part is that only you can see this invisible boundary. Everyone else can cross it—except you.”
“In Shiraz Adelabad Prison, my cellmates were murderers and dangerous criminals. For me, the ankle monitor was a choice between bad and worse,” says a teacher from Shiraz.
For many, the device remains preferable to the harsh conditions of Iran’s prisons—but only barely.
“This is the least we pay for demanding our rights,” one teacher says.
“The ankle monitor has limited my physical movement, but it hasn’t stopped me from thinking and writing,” says another author. “I still write—and that’s something the government can never take away from me.”
Reza Salehi Amiri, minister of cultural heritage, tourism and handicrafts, said plans for recovery were underway amid the challenges posed by the war. “The policy we defined for after the recent war is the product of lengthy expert work in the ministry,” he said.
However, he said that recovery was contingent on broader security conditions. “Our forecast is that within the next six months, if stability is defined and threats removed, we can return to our previous program,” he said.
New visa hurdles
Iran’s foreign ministry enacted new restrictions on visitor entry in the wake of the war, the Travel and Tour World website reported last month. The rules ban individual travel, require official contracts with registered agencies, and oblige travelers to provide their hotel bookings and complete itineraries. A licensed guide must accompany tourists throughout their stay.
Visa applicants must also submit résumés, education records, travel history, and links to their social media accounts, with embassy reviews stretching up to three weeks, according to the outlet. In July, other industry websites circulated the same requirements, which took effect on August 1.
According to August figures, arrivals had already fallen 53 percent from the year before, the deputy tourism minister, Anoushirvan Mohseni Bandpey, said, attributing the decline to the 12-day war and what he called a campaign of Iranophobia.
Industry strain
Hotel operators have likewise cited losses. Cancellations in western provinces had reached billions of rials, Jamshid Hamzezadeh, head of Iran’s hoteliers’ association, told state media in July.
“Travel has effectively fallen out of priority in many people’s lives,” he said.
Iran’s hotel industry faces challenges that long predate the war. Inflation and stagnant household incomes had already pushed travel out of reach for many families, concentrating spending on food and housing.
The country has also seen a downturn following international warnings from countries such as the US warning against travel to Iran citing fears of arbitrary detention, especially for dual nationals.
Salehi Amiri said last year that the ministry was planning to expand accommodation capacity. “We are obliged to open 100 hotels annually,” he said, adding that many of Iran’s 1,430 existing hotels fall short of international standards.
The discussion about building this number of hotels comes while, according to industry officials, the current newly built hotels do not even have the minimum number of guests to cover their expenses.
The newspaper Payam-e Ma criticized Salehi Amiri's remarks. "It would be better, since the minister himself has said that many hotels are not in a position to attract tourists, for the government to focus on standardizing existing hotels instead of opening new ones," he said.
The country, historically known for its rich cultural and historical heritage as well as its natural beauty, has struggled to attract foreign tourists in recent years. Despite its allure, the country faced challenges such as strict dress codes for women and restrictions on alcohol and nightlife.
Data from the Statistical Center of the Islamic Republic shows that the number of incoming tourists to Iran in 2023 was 6.4 million, up from 4.2 million in 2022, when the Woman, Life, Freedom protests rocked the country.
However, before the pandemic, the peak of foreign tourist arrivals to Iran was in 2018 and 2019, with 7.8 million and 8.8 million tourists entering the country, respectively.
“Locking up independent journalists is a critical part of the Islamic Republic’s strategy to silence dissent and hold onto power,” CHRI Executive Director Hadi Ghaemi said, urging the UN, governments and international media groups to press for the release of imprisoned journalists and the protection of press freedom.
“The international community should speak out for the individuals in Iran sacrificing their livelihoods and often their freedom to speak truth to power,” he added.
Citing Reporters Without Borders data, CHRI said that at least 21 journalists are currently detained in Iran and that the country ranks 176th out of 180 on press freedom.
While Article 24 of Iran’s constitution guarantees a free press, CHRI said Iran’s press laws enable repression through charges such as spreading false information, insulting the Supreme Leader, propaganda against the state, and endangering the Islamic Republic.
The group listed recent cases, including summonses and prosecutions of reporters in multiple provinces; a three-month prison sentence for journalist Omid Faraghat on “propaganda” charges; the detention of photojournalists covering the aftermath of Israeli strikes on state broadcaster IRIB; and the August 19 shuttering of the Tehran Journalists’ Trade Association office, which the association called “a blatant assault on professional independence.”
CHRI also highlighted the Intelligence Ministry’s announcement that it summoned or detained 98 people described as “citizen-journalists” over alleged ties to an overseas Persian-language outlet during the June Iran-Israel war, without providing names or legal status.
In an interview published by CHRI, a female journalist described licensing hurdles, pervasive security vetting, and what she called a “mafia-like, state-controlled” media market that forces self-censorship or exile.
In a separate nationwide survey of provincial crackdowns after US and Israeli strikes on Iran, CHRI said at least 58 activists, lawyers and bereaved family members were arbitrarily detained, at least 25 were charged or sentenced, 11 political prisoners faced intensified pressure including denial of medical care, and at least six people were executed on espionage charges.
CHRI said minorities were disproportionately targeted and called for robust international scrutiny and accountability measures.
