In a land where millions line up for subsidized bread and struggle to meet daily needs, the Islamic Republic of Iran once again revealed how far removed it is from its people. The Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC), in its latest extravagant and threatening display, unveiled a new “underground missile city” — a project that speaks not of defense, but of distrust, fear, and a pathological obsession with war.
The unveiling ceremony, graced by Major General Mohammad Bagheri and IRGC Aerospace Force commander Amir Ali Hajizadeh, was more of a political performance than a military event. It was a declaration: not bread, not education, not healthcare — but missiles, escalation, and readiness for confrontation.
This is not a mere military facility — it is a full-scale underground arsenal. Ballistic missiles such as Kheibarshekan, Haj Qasem, Qadr H, Sejjil, Emad, and the Paweh cruise missile, each capable of long-range strikes and equipped with devastating payloads, now rest silently in the cold depths of the earth, awaiting a command.
Missiles for Threats, People for Neglect
While independent analysts have repeatedly warned that Iran’s obsessive focus on military buildup comes at the cost of critical civil infrastructure, the Islamic Republic continues to retreat underground — where there are no journalists, no oversight, and no accountability.
The Kheibarshekan missile, with its extended 1800 km range and maneuverable warhead, has been developed with significant financial investment — resources that could have provided clean water, modern schools, and medical facilities across neglected regions of Iran.
The Haj Qasem missile, also boasting a 1400 km range and solid fuel capability, sits in an arsenal where each weapon costs more than an entire town’s annual development budget. What does this reveal about the regime’s real priorities? National security — or regime security?
Weapons Built to Deepen Isolation
Missiles like Qadr H, Sejjil, and Emad are often flaunted as signs of technological progress. In reality, they serve as excuses for more sanctions, deeper economic pressure, and further justification for the militarization of Iranian society. The result is clear: Iran has become more isolated, opaque, and unstable.
Sejjil, a solid-fueled missile capable of exiting the Earth’s atmosphere, may be a technical achievement. But is now not the time for the Islamic Republic to aim its sights lower — to the soil, to its people, and to their suffering?
Paweh Cruise Missile: A New Face of Death, Not Honor
The Paweh cruise missile, with its 1650 km range and maneuverability, is the IRGC’s latest pride. But what does it mean for ordinary Iranians? When even basic food items are unaffordable, the dollar soars unpredictably, and educated youth are fleeing the country, how can such “achievements” be seen as victories?
Underground Shelters for a Regime, Not the People
These underground missile cities do not merely represent military strategy — they reflect a regime’s psychological retreat. The state that burrows underground is one that fears its own people more than any foreign enemy.
In such circumstances, the regime’s claim of “deterrence” loses meaning. It’s not external threats they aim to deter — it’s the inevitable eruption of internal rage, which simmers just beneath the surface of Iranian society.
A Message to the World: We Are Ready for War, Not Peace
This missile city sends a blunt message to the global community: the Islamic Republic has chosen weapons over welfare, secrecy over transparency, and conflict over cooperation. But the world understands — every missile stocked underground invites new sanctions, new isolation, and renewed skepticism.
The Final Outcome: Fear Below, Despair Above
The people who once believed in a brighter future now watch as their fate is buried under tons of steel and concrete. Kheibarshekan, Emad, Haj Qasem — these names are no longer marks of glory. They are emblems of a regime that diverted its power not to build a nation, but to threaten and suppress it.
While Iran’s rulers may hide in bunkers and tunnels, the people remain above — facing hunger, joblessness, and a regime that traded their hope for missiles.
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