The Future of Persecution in Iran

In June of last year, a 12-day war began with Israeli attacks on Iran. 

A month later, Iran’s Ministry of Intelligence and Security put out a statement that many people probably missed in the midst of the bigger conflict.

It said 53 people had been arrested. It called them “Mossad mercenaries.” It said they had been “trained abroad” by churches in the United States and Israel. And it said they had been operating “under the guise of the Zionist Christian evangelisation movement.”

The people they were describing were Iranian evangelical Christians. People who had converted from Islam. People who met in living rooms to read the Bible and pray.

The ministry said these Iranians had been “neutralized.”

The word “neutralized” tells you exactly how the Iranian government understands the threat believers pose. Not as a religious minority practicing their faith. But as enemies of the state.

A year later, war continues in the Middle East, as politicians and military leaders scramble to find answers for geopolitical problems no one can seem to solve.

But a less-noticed question remains: What does all this mean for Christians in Iran? What does persecution in Iran look like right now? And what will it look like in the future?

THE BIGGER PICTURE OF PERSECUTION 

Mansour Borji is the director of Article18, an online organization that documents the arrests, interrogations, and prison sentences that Iranian Christians face: “You need to see it within the bigger picture—the campaign of intimidation and, I would say, eradication of Persian-speaking Christianity.”

When a crisis like war arises, authorities see an opportunity to make Christians scapegoats—people to blame for the country’s woes. This turns anger away from the officials in power and justifies persecuting a minority group for problems they didn’t create. 

This kind of persecution is made possible because of how Iran’s legal system views religions. Though it is the Islamic Republic of Iran, the constitution recognises three religious minorities: Zoroastrians, Jews, and Christians. 

But the label “Christian” is reserved for a very narrow group: ethnic Armenians, Assyrians, and a few Christian communities that have existed in the country for centuries.

Those Christians have certain legal, though limited, protections, including church buildings, representation in parliament, and the right to worship in their own languages.

But in reality, they are not representative of all Christians. Over the past four decades, the number of converts has surpassed the number of ethnic Armenian and Assyrian Christians. And these converts do not have a representative. They do not have a functioning church they can formally attend.

Anyone who has left Islam for Christianity is not recognised by the state. They have no legal right to worship in public or hold services. They cannot attend the established ethnic churches. 

So they meet in what they call house churches. But the government calls them enemy groups.

THE CRIME OF PRAYER AND BAPTISM 

Persecution against Christians is not often labeled as such. Instead, Christian activity is often dumped into broader illegal categories. 

Under Article 500 bis of the Iranian Penal Code, any “propaganda contrary to the holy religion of Islam” is criminalized. In 2024, nearly 70 percent of the charges against Iranian Christians were brought under Article 500 bis.

In 2025, that figure rose to nearly 90 percent.

The persecution Iranian Christians endure isn’t just arrest or imprisonment. Borji says it also takes deeper dimensions. 

“When you are not even considered a citizen, your identity in day-to-day life is challenged,” he says. “You cannot identify yourself by what you believe. For their own protection, people have to live a double life. Some choose not to. You either go with the flow and do what the authorities ask, or you are prepared to pay the consequences.”

For some, the consequences are severe. In 2025, Christians were sentenced to a combined total of more than 280 years in prison. 

In one case from 2025, five Christians were sentenced to more than fifty years in prison combined. The evidence against them included praying together, baptizing people, taking Communion, and celebrating Christmas.

In another case, two Christian converts were convicted of “distributing smuggled goods.” Those goods were Bibles found inside their homes. And they weren’t even present for the trial.

That was the physical evidence: Bibles.

One woman is currently serving a ten-year sentence for giving “financial and material support” to her house church. According to the court documents, the amount she gave was fourteen dollars.

And Iranian courts have repeatedly described the Bible itself as a “prohibited book”— calling it distorted, corrupt, deviant, and misleading.

So when the government talks about threats to national security, this is often what it means: Christians praying, worshiping, giving, and sharing the Bible.

THE CHURCH THAT SURVIVES

Over the last year, some Iranian Christians outside the U.S. expressed hope for regime change. For an opportunity for religious freedom. For a chance to share the gospel without fear of punishment.

But despite huge blows to its government and military, the Iranian regime has remained defiant. And many Iranian people have grown despondent about any chance for real change. 

Borji says it’s difficult, but he isn’t without hope. 

“For me, hope means a church that learns its lessons through this process, matures, grows its roots deeper, and fulfils its work — not only declaring the gospel, but also being the presence of Christ in its communities,” he says. 

“That is the church that survives. Not only survives, but, as it has over the past forty-some years, thrives. So I have no doubt that the church will be victorious. Whether my lifetime allows me to see it or not, I know the end of the story.”