As the sharp, cold morning wind swept autumn leaves across the cobbled alleyways of the city, a dense, silent crowd had gathered in the main square. Their breath turned into small clouds in the freezing air, merging into one another. Among the crowd stood women whose eyes reflected waves of fear, worry, and anxiety, and children full of curiosity, their tiny hands tightly held in their mothers’ palms, gazing up at them with questioning eyes.

On the wooden platform facing the crowd stood three men—two officers in all-black uniforms, their faces covered, fully equipped; and the third, pale-faced, bound hands, a look of terror in his eyes as if blood no longer flowed through his veins. Near the ambulance parked in the corner of the square, men in white coats stood with arms crossed, waiting for the task to end and the final confirmation to be given.

In the suffocating atmosphere of the small town square, the occasional cries of an infant broke the deadly silence. Among the crowd pressed against the barricades, men could be seen hoisting children onto their shoulders to give them a better view of the spectacle. These children, with their innocent, curious eyes, stared at the noose hanging from the crane—a childlike curiosity about to be answered with cruelty and replaced by eternal horror.

When the execution command was shouted, a woman screamed, but her voice cracked in her throat and turned into a nervous cough. A mother covered her young daughter’s eyes with her hands, yet kept her own terrified gaze fixed on the scene, unaware that her little girl was peeking through those very fingers, recording that immense and horrific moment in her young mind. The executioner kicked the stool from under the condemned man’s feet, sending him swinging by the neck between earth and sky.

Some in the crowd turned their heads away. Women pressed their children’s faces into their chests. But the curious child always finds a way to see. With wide, bewildered eyes, they watched how a human life is extinguished in the blink of an eye. Eyes that should have been full of dreams, kindness, and joy now became hosts to death, destruction, and nothingness. A memory that may well shape the future trajectory of those children in that very moment.

Now, beneath the shadow of the gallows swaying in the dawn light and wind, the people disperse—heavy-footed, grim-faced, like a crashing wave breaking against the shore and vanishing. This is the familiar tale repeated at every execution ordered by a judge to be carried out in public. But what does public mean?

In Islamic law and legal practice, there is no precise definition for public (mala-e-am); it is understood in contrast to the notion of private space. Essentially, it refers to any space where people can witness events without needing permission—such as on public streets. Some legal experts argue that this concept extends to spaces like print, electronic, and virtual media, meaning that publishing images of individuals on websites, blogs, or television can be considered public. Others reject this interpretation, arguing that visual and symbolic domains are not equivalent to the physical public.

This understanding sharply contrasts with the early Islamic concept of mala-e-am and the phrase “ta’ifatun min al-mu’minin” (a group of believers) who would be present at corporal punishments. Thus, when judges choose the location for death penalties or humiliating punishments like flogging, they must consider the broader impact. Today, public executions are broadcast globally through photos and videos. Judges, in many recent cases, prefer such executions to take place near the scene of the crime—often in public squares or streets.

Some death sentences for other crimes—such as armed assault or drug trafficking—are also carried out near the convict’s place of residence, indicating that public executions are not limited to cases like murder or rape, but extend to drug-related offenses as well.

Notably, the procedures for execution, retribution (qisas), and stoning in Iran are outlined in a legal directive titled “Executive Regulations for the Implementation of Hudud, Capital Punishment, Amputation, Qisas of Life and Limb, Diyat, Flogging, Exile, Banishment, Forced Residency, and Ban from Residency in Certain Locations.” This directive was updated and signed on June 17, 2019 (27 Khordad 1398) by then-Chief Justice Seyyed Ebrahim Raisi. Though the directive predates Raisi’s term, it was revised under his leadership.

The Quran recommends that a group of believers witness certain punishments, such as flogging for adultery, regardless of gender. However, public executions such as qisas (retaliatory justice) are more emphasized in traditional sources rather than in the Quran itself. Some Shi’a scholars believe that implementing hudud during the occultation of the Imam is not permissible and that only discretionary punishments (ta’zir) should be used.

But has the public implementation of such punishments actually reduced violent crimes like rape or murder—or has this violent spectacle of public executions and retribution dulled the public’s sensitivity to death, destruction, and the eradication of human beings, even if they are accused?

First, it’s important to note that support for public executions, even in the face of extensive scholarly criticism, is deeply rooted in historical, cultural, psychological, and political factors. Understanding this phenomenon requires examining various perspectives. The primary justification often cited is deterrence. Though contrary to empirical evidence, this rationale can seem persuasive: “Seeing the severe and shameful consequences of crime will instill fear in others and prevent crime.”

Another common argument is the need for a strong response to crimes that deeply disturb public sentiment. In societies plagued by fear and outrage over violent crimes, people often demand swift and decisive action. Public punishment creates the illusion that the government is decisively “expelling evil” from society.

There is also the retributive justice argument—an eye for an eye—one of the oldest theories of justice. Some people believe that true justice is only served when the perpetrator suffers in equal measure, and that such suffering must be witnessed. Watching the punishment provides a sense of restored power to the victims and to society.

However, we must also consider the political and ideological functions of this spectacle. Public punishment acts as a performance of state authority and sends a clear message: “We rule, and anyone who breaks the law will face the harshest consequences.” By showcasing an internal enemy (the criminal) and punishing them, the regime reinforces unity among supporters and diverts attention from other crises—such as economic hardship.

Religious and traditional justifications also play a role. Certain religious groups, citing specific interpretations of scripture, not only approve of public punishments but deem them obligatory, seeing them as a form of enacting divine law and promoting virtue while forbidding vice.

Nonetheless, most sociological and social science research shows that public executions have harmful consequences. Just like watching violent media can desensitize people and increase aggression, witnessing such real-life violence may lead to increased cruelty, vengeance, hatred, and even the urge to commit crime. Many sociologists argue that these events cultivate a culture of brutality and aggression, and that policymakers have failed to consult psychological or sociological experts. The primary goal of such displays may be to set an example, but they often end up traumatizing the public and increasing aggression.

From a deterrence standpoint, public executions are ineffective. They may instill momentary fear, but habitual criminals adapt by becoming more careful—not more ethical. Worse, these spectacles may provoke revenge fantasies among others. Thus, sociology rejects this approach as it fosters an aggressive social atmosphere.

Repetition of public executions leads to desensitization. Over time, their psychological impact fades, and they become akin to bullfights or boxing matches—forms of entertainment. With persistent exposure, the public may begin to enjoy watching executions. This repetition unconsciously spreads aggressive tendencies in society. Once, people were disturbed by the blood of animals—now they attend the killing of fellow human beings. What we witness is a shift: from spilling animal blood to human blood. As a result, killing becomes normalized, and eventually, society may accept murder and violence as everyday realities.

Some clerics and legal scholars argue that public execution and retribution are effective, while others say they backfire and are not essential to punishment. According to Islamic criminal law, punishments are meant to be deterrent and humiliating, to serve as a warning to others. But public execution is not a legal requirement; it remains within the discretion of judges.

So why do some executions take place publicly while others do not? Often, it is a response to media coverage. Crimes that gain massive media attention—such as the gang rape case in Khomeinishahr, Isfahan—genuinely shock the public. Still, such emotional intensity should not dictate irreversible judicial decisions. While punishment serves to respond to societal demands, this doesn’t necessarily require capital punishment. Justice can be served without taking a life—through fair trials, compensation, and proportionate non-lethal penalties.

Historically, a small group of believers (more than two) would witness an execution to verify the sentence. Today, transparency is achieved through official reports and media coverage—there is no need for public spectacles of violence. Conducting executions inside prisons—if capital punishment is retained—at least reduces the secondary harm caused by such “performances.”

Nonetheless, the ideal path in criminal justice policy is to move toward effective, non-lethal alternatives and preventive strategies. Public executions carry not only logistical costs but turn execution sites into long-lasting symbols of trauma in collective memory. A public square is not a place for punishment. We must ask: if children are barred from attending court hearings, why are they exposed to executions?

In conclusion, if public executions actually solved crime, we wouldn’t be facing this tidal wave of crime and insecurity today. These performances only teach criminals to be more cautious—not more law-abiding.