In the contemporary world, children and adolescents are more exposed than ever to violence that is neither accidental nor individual, but organized, targeted, and structural. From terrorist operations and blind attacks against ordinary people to war, military aggression, and occupation, it is always the children who are the most defenseless victims of violence. They have no presence in the political decision-making arena, play no role in shaping wars and conflicts, but are the first to lose their security, home, family, peace of mind, and sometimes their lives.
The International Day of Innocent Children Victims of Aggression is not just a calendar event; it is an ethical and human warning to a world that has still failed to safeguard children's most basic rights. This day is a reminder of the bitter reality that violence against children is not limited to the moment of death or injury. Every child victim of war or terror is a sign of the destruction of a world—a world that should have been built on security, education, play, imagination, and hope, but instead is surrounded by fear, displacement, grief, and anxiety.
In Iran, historical experience shows children and adolescents have repeatedly been direct victims of organized violence. Since the Islamic Revolution, 2,162 Iranian children and adolescents have been martyred as a result of terrorist cult actions—a staggering statistic clearly showing that terror in Iran was not merely a security phenomenon but directly targeted the life of the future generation. These victims are not just numbers in a report; each is an unfinished story of childhood, family, school, dreams, and a future, cut short by blind violence.
This bitter reality has continued in recent years. In the 12-day war with the Israeli regime, 34 children were martyred—children who were neither soldiers nor had any role on the battlefield but were caught in violence that erased the line between military and civilian. Also, in the "Ramadan War" with the US and the Israeli regime, 262 children and adolescents were martyred—statistics showing that in the logic of aggression and domination, the child is not spared from harm either. These are just examples of the suffering of Iranian children; examples that must be recorded in our collective memory so the world knows that victims of terror and aggression are not just news headlines.
Among these cases, the memory of the martyrs of the Shajareh Tayyebeh Elementary School in Minab holds special significance—children whose names remind us that violence does not even spare the schoolyard. A school, in its human meaning, should symbolize growth, knowledge, friendship, and the future. When a child is killed in such a place, it's not just a life lost; society's trust in security, education, and tomorrow is also damaged. From this perspective, these incidents should be seen as clear examples of US state terrorism—terrorism that, through the support, design, or legitimization by hegemonic powers, destroys children's lives for political and military ends.
Faced with all this suffering, the crucial question is how society should protect its children. The answer is not limited to security and legal mechanisms. The child traumatized by war and terror needs psychological, emotional, and identity reconstruction in addition to security. They need to feel seen, heard, and able to imagine a different future. This is where cultural and educational institutions play a vital role.
In Iran, Kanoon (the Institute for the Intellectual Development of Children and Young Adults) is one of the most important institutions that can play a role here. Kanoon is not just a place to borrow books or hold cultural programs; it is an institution that has, over decades, animated the imagination, creativity, literacy, art, dialogue, and identity of different generations. In a situation where organized violence tries to empty the child from within, Kanoon can help them find themselves again.
A child who has experienced fear needs a new language to express their suffering. Stories, painting, theater, poetry, film, and books are tools that allow the child to transform their bitter experience into expression. Many traumatized children cannot directly talk about their pain, but they can paint it, recreate it in a story, or depict it in a short play. Kanoon, relying on its educators, libraries, and artistic activities, can provide this possibility, transforming the child from a "silent victim" into a "narrator of wound and hope."
Another role of Kanoon is rebuilding the sense of belonging and identity. Violence, especially when organized and repetitive, disconnects the child: a disconnect from the sense of security, from trust in the world, and from a clear image of the future. Sustained cultural activity repairs this disconnect. When a child attends a safe cultural space, reads books, creates art, is seen and respected in a group, they gradually regain trust in the world. This trust is the foundation of hope; and hope is the most important force of resistance against violence.
On the other hand, Kanoon can also play a memory-building role at the national level. A society that forgets its child victims has, in fact, lost a part of its historical conscience. Narrating the lives and martyrdom of children, recording their memories, producing books and art about them, and linking these narratives with education on peace, human dignity, and justice, are among the tasks that can arise from cultural activities. This is necessary not to reproduce sorrow, but to defend the truth and prevent the normalization of violence.
Today, the world faces a great paradox: powers that introduce themselves as defenders of human rights in practice appear as supporters or justifiers of violence against children (like the tragic Epstein case) or at least remain silent in the face of it. These very paradoxes double the necessity of an independent and humane narrative of children's suffering. We must use every opportunity to remind the world that child victims are not the margin of war and terror, but the text of the tragedy.
Ultimately, defending child victims of organized violence is not just the duty of governments or international bodies; it is a cultural, social, and moral mission for all of us. If terror and aggression target the future, then any action to strengthen imagination, culture, identity, and hope in children is a form of resistance against that. The Institute for the Intellectual Development of Children and Young Adults (Kanoon) can be one of the main pillars in this path; an institution for the Iranian child to still be able to dream, create meaning, and believe in tomorrow, even after experiencing suffering.
By Mohammad Mehdi Hosseinpour; Director General of the Institute for the Intellectual Development of Children and Young Adults (Kanoon), Khorasan Razavi Province