Iran's handwoven carpet exports, once worth nearly $2.5 billion annually, have now "virtually stopped," a provincial industry official said, reflecting the steep decline of one of the country's best-known exports.
"At the moment, carpet exports have nearly reached zero," Abdolrahman Tasmim Ghatee, head of the union of handicrafts sellers and handwoven carpet producers in Fars province, told the Iranian Labor News Agency (ILNA), a semi-official labor-focused news outlet.
He said exports, which once stood at close to $2.5 billion, had fallen to less than $50 million in recent years, with little trade now taking place.
Market slump hits producers
Tasmim Ghatee said around 90% of the sector depended on tourism, especially foreign visitors, but international tourism had largely dried up.
"Some shops do not make a single sale during the week because there are simply no buyers," he said. "After paying for food and daily expenses, people have nothing left to spend on decorative goods, handicrafts and carpets."
He said the market downturn had worsened after the war that began in late February between Iran, Israel and the United States, which disrupted trade and deepened economic uncertainty, even as a fragile ceasefire remains in place.
Fighting has largely stopped, but tensions persist amid stalled negotiations between Washington, Tehran and Israel over sanctions, regional security and Iran's nuclear program.
Decades-long decline
Iranian handwoven carpet exports generated more than $2 billion in revenue in 1994, one of the industry's strongest years, before entering a long decline driven by sanctions, rising competition and weaker global demand.
Exports fell to $69 million in 2019 and just $2 million in the second quarter of 2020, according to customs data and industry reports. By March 2024, exports had dropped to $39.7 million from $426 million in 2017, according to officials cited by ILNA.
Industry figures have blamed US sanctions, trade restrictions, currency rules and stronger competition from India, Turkey, Afghanistan, China and Pakistan for the downturn. The United States, once a major market for Iranian carpets, reimposed restrictions on Iranian rug imports after Washington withdrew from the 2015 nuclear deal in 2018.
Weavers leave the trade
The number of carpet weavers in Fars province has dropped by about 80% from around 6,000 in 2018 to roughly 1,000 now, Tasmim Ghatee said.
"When carpets and handicrafts are not sold, naturally the weaver will not continue working," he said.
He described how rural women could spend six months weaving a carpet while covering raw material costs and household duties, only to find no market for the finished product.
"How can she start again?" he said.
Officials push digital sales
Gholamhossein Zanhari, head of the carpet department at Fars province's industry and trade office, said the sector needed safer export routes and stronger online sales to survive.
He pointed to regional markets including Armenia, Georgia, Oman and Turkey, as well as Japan, South Korea and Singapore, as potential destinations and said platforms such as Etsy and eBay could help producers reach consumers directly.
"Digitalization is not just a sales tool, but a way to maintain business continuity" during crises, he said.
Shiva Esmaili, Golrokh Iraee, Sakineh Parvaneh, Forough Taghipour, Zahra Safaei, Marzieh Farsi, Elaheh Fouladi and Varisheh Moradi were denied visitation rights in recent weeks after participating in memorial gatherings and protest-related events inside the women’s ward, sources familiar with the situation said.
Prison authorities have also increased surveillance and patrols inside the ward, with officers entering cells daily and sometimes at night under the pretext of inspections, a source close to prisoners’ families told Iran International.
Women prisoners in Evin had for years marked political and ideological occasions through gatherings, songs, readings and commemorations for killed protesters and veteran activists, the source said. Prison officials have recently intervened directly in such activities and threatened participants, the source added.
The source said some women recently transferred to the ward were also warned by prison and security officials after attending a small number of the gatherings.
Prison staff have in recent months used insulting language toward detainees and threatened them with transfer to solitary confinement, another source familiar with conditions in the ward told Iran International.
Prisoners face solitary confinement threats
Ghazal Marzban, another woman prisoner in Evin, was recently held in solitary confinement for five nights after protesting the handling of her case, a source familiar with the situation said.
The women’s ward in Evin, often described by activists as a focal point of the “Woman, Life, Freedom” movement, has repeatedly issued statements and organized protests over executions, arrests, economic hardship and the suppression of demonstrations in Iran.
Prisoners in the ward have also staged sit-ins and hunger strikes against death sentences in recent years, after which some faced punitive measures including restrictions on phone calls, visits and new legal cases.
A source close to prisoners’ families said the growing restrictions and threats of solitary confinement reflected efforts by prison and security authorities to silence dissent inside the ward.
Prisoner with tumors denied urgent treatment
Separate information obtained by Iran International shows that Mohtaram Parandin, an imprisoned artist and painter known as Mahshar, has been denied urgent medical treatment despite suffering from two tumors near the cerebellum and throat as well as severe heart disease.
A source familiar with her condition said prison doctors had warned that immediate surgery was necessary because the tumor near her cerebellum had affected her vision, speech and movement.
“The effects of the illness are visible in the way she walks and speaks,” the source said.
Despite recommendations from prison medical staff, authorities have not approved her transfer for treatment and have also rejected requests for medical leave and conditional release although she has served more than half of her sentence, the source added.
The source said documentation required for temporary medical leave had already been submitted to the prosecutor’s office.
Parandin, the mother of a teenage son, became the head of her household after the death of her husband. Her son also suffers from a chronic illness and has faced difficulties during her imprisonment.
Rights groups and prisoners’ families have for years accused Iranian prison authorities of denying political prisoners adequate medical care, with several detainees dying in custody after prolonged illness or delayed treatment.
Yet much of the international coverage surrounding Iran during this period has focused mainly on statements by officials of the Islamic Republic rather than the experiences of people living under the restrictions.
Businesses collapse
Hossein, a 33-year-old music teacher who previously held many of his classes online, said his work has effectively stopped since the beginning of the 12-day war in June.
“My students are inside and outside Iran, but because of the internet disruptions they can no longer attend classes,” he said. “My income has almost dropped to zero.”
Hossein said the economic pressure on his family has become severe.
“The Islamic Republic does not care about us, and the world also seems not to care about the swamp we are struggling in,” he said.
His wife, Mohaddeseh, used Instagram to sell homemade sweets and tomato paste before the restrictions intensified.
“We spent four years trying to move our lives forward despite all the difficulties, but these 70 days destroyed everything we had,” she said. “We spent the savings we had put aside to buy a house, and now we do not know how we will pay rent and living costs.”
Internet; a class-based commodity
Shahla, a 56-year-old mother of a son with autism, said online gaming had been one of the few calming spaces available for her child before the internet restrictions deepened.
“My son can no longer play online,” she said. “He is full of stress and aggression now and constantly clashes with us.”
Shahla criticized the rising cost of stable internet access and what she described as the “class-based” nature of internet availability in Iran.
“Do the people who turned the internet into a class privilege understand what families are going through?” she said.
She said she had spent years trying to create a calmer life for her son through counseling and therapy programs, but described the past 70 days as “a real hell.”
‘Not seen grandchildren for 70 days’
Mozhdeh, a 70-year-old retiree, said she was recently told to install the Iranian messaging app Baleh to book doctor appointments and receive medical test results.
“To register for a doctor’s appointment, I now have to install an application that people have repeatedly warned about in terms of security,” she said.
Mozhdeh’s children and grandchildren live outside Iran. Before the restrictions, she said she spoke with them daily through video calls. Now she relies mainly on short phone conversations.
“I am retired and cannot afford expensive internet access,” she said. “Why should people be forced into these conditions without any serious reaction?”
Public discussion about Iran, she said, often focuses almost entirely on the nuclear issue while the impact of restrictions on ordinary people receives little attention.
“If another country had cut internet access for 70 days and carried out arrests and executions every day, the global reaction would certainly be different,” she said.
Restrictions hit women-led businesses
Mahan, a fashion designer who has worked with Baluch women producing traditional needlework, said the restrictions have severely affected independent online businesses.
“For more than 70 days, we have not been able to register any new orders,” she said. “I am not only worried about myself. I am worried about the women whose only source of income depended on this work.”
Online sales, she said, had helped improve the economic situation of the women she worked with before the restrictions began.
Living in online silence
As internet restrictions in Iran entered a third month, many residents say they feel their voices are not being heard.
From education and healthcare to business activity and family communication, internet access has become an essential part of daily life for millions of people in Iran, residents say.
But amid political and security debates surrounding Iran, the experiences of people paying the daily cost of the restrictions continue to receive far less attention.
