In two lengthy documents released in February 2026, the High Council for Human Rights of the Islamic Republic of Iran has presented one of its most detailed legal defences to date of how and why the state responded to the January unrest, arguing bluntly that its actions must be understood not as violations of human rights but as part of its obligation to enforce them.
The reports reject what they describe as a dominant international narrative that reduces human rights to limits on state authority while overlooking the responsibility of governments to prevent violence and social breakdown. They insist that security enforcement, when grounded in law, is not the opposite of human rights protection but one of its essential components.
“Any assessment of the performance of a country’s security institutions requires moving beyond a one-dimensional perspective,” the first report states, describing Iran’s security structure as a “complex system” shaped by law, training, oversight and judicial accountability. The document argues that critics frequently isolate specific incidents without examining the legal architecture governing how force may be used.
According to the report, that architecture begins with constitutional principles designed to place strict boundaries on state action. It describes the Constitution as creating an “ethical-legal filter” through which all executive decisions must pass and stresses that any order violating those principles is inherently invalid. Officers, it says, are “not only unauthorised to carry it out but are also obligated to refrain from executing it”.
The report sets out what it calls a clear normative hierarchy, from constitutional protections down to operational directives in the field. Ordinary legislation, including the penal code and criminal procedure laws, is described as providing “objective and specific definitions” of threats to public order and distinguishing legally between peaceful assembly and actions intended to cause disruption or damage.
One of the most detailed sections concerns the use of firearms. The report maintains that Iranian regulations sharply restrict when lethal force is allowed, clarifying “the exceptional and highly limited conditions under which firearms may be used”, such as armed attacks or terrorist situations. It outlines a mandatory escalation process beginning with verbal warnings and moving step by step towards stronger measures only if necessary. “Each shot fired must be explainable and in accordance with specific provisions in the regulations,” it says, emphasising individual accountability.
The document repeatedly returns to the principle of proportionality, calling it a measurable legal test rather than a political slogan. It defines proportionality as requiring both a lawful objective and the minimum level of force necessary to achieve it. Training programmes, the report says, teach officers to prioritise non-lethal responses, noting that in simulated scenarios options such as “controlled physical engagement” or pepper spray take precedence over live fire unless a threat is immediately deadly.
It also directly rejects allegations that violence is systemic policy. “An ‘official violence policy’ would require evidence such as secret written directives recommending extralegal violence,” the report argues. “None of these exist in the case of Iran.” Instead, it points to disciplinary boards, inspections and court proceedings as proof that violations are treated as breaches of law rather than expressions of it.
The second report shifts the argument from domestic regulation to international legal theory, grounding Iran’s actions in what it calls the doctrine of human security. It criticises what it describes as a widespread misunderstanding of human rights as purely negative restraints on governments.
“In many contemporary narratives, human rights are understood merely as a set of limitations on state power,” the report says. “However, states, in addition to their negative obligation to refrain from violating rights, also bear positive obligations to protect the life, security and dignity of individuals.”
This framing is central to how the January 2026 events are characterised. The report acknowledges the presence of protest but argues that the situation changed when violence and disruption spread. “The main issue was not merely the existence of protests,” it states, “but the transformation of some movements into a state that threatened human security.”
Drawing on interpretations associated with the United Nations Human Rights Committee, the document emphasises that the right to life requires preventative action by governments. It cites the understanding that this right must not be interpreted narrowly and includes obligations “to adopt positive measures to protect individuals’ lives against reasonably foreseeable threats”.
From this perspective, the state argues that failing to intervene in escalating unrest could itself constitute a breach of international law. “The state is not only accountable for the actions of its agents,” the report says, “but also bears legal responsibility for failing to prevent widespread violence.”
The document repeatedly stresses that freedoms such as expression and assembly are not absolute. Restrictions, it notes, may be imposed when they are lawful, necessary and proportionate to protect public order and the rights of others. It warns against what it calls a false binary between security and liberty, stating that “security measures are understood as part of the government’s obligation to protect human security and the rights of the majority of society”.
That emphasis on the broader population is a defining theme. The report argues that human rights analysis often focuses narrowly on activists while overlooking millions affected by instability. Human security, it says, requires attention to citizens who “seek the continuation of normal life, education, healthcare and livelihoods” and who suffer when disorder spreads.
The text goes further, describing unrest as capable of producing “a chain of human rights violations” through blocked transport, disrupted services, economic loss and psychological stress. Such harms, it argues, directly affect the rights to security and dignity and must be weighed alongside claims of protest rights.
In assessing the government response, the report invokes the principle of necessity, stating that intervention is justified when there is “a real and serious threat to fundamental rights” and when less intrusive measures prove insufficient. It maintains that the events of January 2026 reached that threshold as violence expanded and daily life was disrupted in affected areas.
“Government action to curb unrest and restore public order is not only justifiable,” the report concludes, “but can also be considered a proportionate response to an actual threat against the human rights of the majority of society.”
Taken together, the two reports amount to a forceful assertion that Iran’s legal system already contains the safeguards critics demand and that international discussions often fail to engage with those internal frameworks. They call for analysis based on legal structures and factual context rather than what they describe as “isolated anecdotes and unfounded generalisations”.
Whether these arguments will influence international opinion remains uncertain, but the documents clearly signal a deliberate effort to shift the terms of debate. Instead of contesting criticism solely at the level of facts, they attempt to redefine the legal lens through which those facts are interpreted, insisting that the central question is not whether states may act in times of unrest, but whether they can afford not to.
