A critical look at tougher espionage penalties and proposed restrictions on foreign influence
A citizen films conditions at a local hospital. A worker speaks to a media outlet about unpaid wages. A researcher shares data with a colleague abroad. None of these acts, on its own, proves espionage. Yet when legislation blurs the line between ordinary communication, public-interest reporting and intelligence cooperation, a troubling question enters everyday life: could speaking about this be used against me?
Two Different Texts, One Shared Concern
A careful assessment must begin by distinguishing between two legislative texts.
The “Law on Increasing Penalties for Espionage and Cooperation with the Zionist Regime and Hostile Countries against National Security and Interests” was passed and approved in September–October 2025. This article refers to it as the 2025 espionage law.
The bill on countering foreign influence follows a separate legislative process. According to the report dated 28 October 2026 cited below, Parliament had not yet finished examining its provisions. Referral to the Guardian Council would follow that examination. The sources cited here do not establish that the bill had entered into force. [1, 2]
The difference goes beyond legislative status. Despite its title, the espionage law also regulates media activity. The foreign-influence bill addresses a broader range of relationships with foreign parties. Their effects therefore extend beyond the activities people usually associate with spying.
When Security Laws Reach Beyond Espionage
States have a legitimate interest in preventing espionage, sabotage and the harmful disclosure of sensitive information. The central question is what the state must prove before treating a particular act as a crime.
Knowingly sharing sensitive operational information to support a destructive operation is fundamentally different from discussing air pollution with a journalist. The fact that the journalist is abroad does not erase that distinction.
A clearly drafted law should identify the prohibited conduct, the intention required and the connection to a security threat. When those boundaries are vague, citizens must guess how prosecutors might interpret their actions. That uncertainty undermines a basic purpose of law: allowing people to understand the limits of state power and the consequences of their conduct.
Article 4: Media Restrictions Within an Espionage Law
Article 4 of the 2025 law reaches beyond classified information. It covers political, cultural, media and publicity activities, as well as certain forms of content production and publication. It also addresses sending videos, images and information to foreign media outlets and online accounts. [1]
In the passage discussed here, sending material to foreign media is expressly linked to a condition: the act must be contrary to national security. The same condition is not expressly repeated in the wording concerning media designated as “hostile.”
That difference deserves scrutiny. It does not, by itself, determine the outcome of a criminal case; general rules governing criminal responsibility must also be considered.
Nevertheless, the underlying question is clear. Should criminal liability depend on the nature of the information, the relevant intent and the harm involved—or on the identity and official designation of its recipient?
If a photograph documents a matter of public concern, why should sending it to a different outlet, by itself, justify punishment? Legislation should answer that question clearly, rather than leave citizens dependent on uncertain interpretations.
Article 22: When an Interview Itself Becomes a Legal Risk
According to the reported parliamentary text, Article 22 of the foreign-influence bill would expose Iranian nationals to criminal penalties for certain interviews and discussions unless the bill’s requirements were met. These are described as “Grade Six” penalties, a category within Iran’s system for classifying criminal punishments. [3]
The reported provision covers media designated and publicly announced as “hostile,” certain media associated with states identified under the bill, and individuals operating as media channels. It also provides an exemption for officials.
The concern therefore extends beyond handing over a confidential document. Participating in an interview could itself become grounds for punishment.
For an ordinary citizen, that is a significant burden. Someone speaking about a local problem may first have to establish how the authorities classify the outlet or person asking the questions.
The exemption for officials also needs explanation. If the concern is the disclosure of harmful information, why should the speaker’s official status determine whether the restriction applies? Government communications may require their own rules, but those rules do not settle the separate question of a citizen’s right to speak.
“Unpublished” Does Not Necessarily Mean “Confidential”
Under the conditions set out in the reported parliamentary text, Article 20 would penalise the unauthorised disclosure of certain unpublished official information, reports, data and statistics to a foreign agent. [3]
But information does not become confidential simply because a public institution has not published it. It may concern public health, building safety or the spending of public money. Non-publication alone does not explain why sharing it should attract a criminal penalty.
Nor does public interest justify disclosing everything without restriction. Personal privacy, professional confidentiality and genuinely sensitive information require protection. The challenge is to distinguish those interests clearly and provide safeguards for responsible reporting and whistleblowing in the public interest.
A Media Label Cannot Settle the Freedom-of-Expression Question
Freedom of expression is not absolute. The state’s power to restrict it, however, is also subject to limits.
In General Comment No. 34, the United Nations Human Rights Committee explains that restrictions must be clearly established by law and satisfy the requirements of necessity and proportionality. A state must demonstrate the connection between a restriction and a specific threat. Invoking national security in general terms is insufficient. [4]
Publishing a list of designated media outlets may make it easier to identify which organisations are covered. It does not resolve the more important question: why must this particular exchange be prohibited?
Could a less restrictive measure address the risk? Is the punishment proportionate? Can the person affected challenge the restriction before an independent body?
An official label should not replace answers to those questions. Criticism of the government—even criticism that is harsh or unwelcome—does not, on its own, establish a threat to national security.
The Cost of Silence Begins Before a Verdict
The effects of these provisions cannot be measured only by counting convictions. A journalist may avoid contacting a source. A researcher may abandon an international collaboration. A citizen may decide that sharing an experience is too risky.
Such decisions rarely appear in court statistics. Yet this chilling effect—the discouragement of lawful speech through fear of possible consequences—can carry a substantial social cost.
Societies need information to circulate so that failures can be exposed and corrected. Making it dangerous to report a problem does not necessarily solve the problem. It may simply make it harder to see.
Effective legislation should protect public expression while addressing genuine security threats. It should define harmful conduct precisely, require evidence of the elements of an offence, provide proportionate penalties and allow an effective legal challenge. It should also distinguish journalism, research and public-interest reporting from participation in intelligence operations.
“We Are All Accused” warns of a society in which people feel compelled to establish their own innocence in their minds before opening their mouths. Lasting security depends on citizens being able to report corruption, danger and institutional failure without every foreign connection placing them under the shadow of a security accusation.
Sources and Scope
- Text of the law increasing penalties for espionage, passed on 28 September 2025, particularly Article 4 (Persian)
- Tasnim, 28 October 2026: report on the continuing examination of the foreign-influence bill (Persian)
- Iran newspaper, 7 October 2026: report on the parliamentary text of Articles 20 and 22 (Persian)
- UN Human Rights Committee, General Comment No. 34, particularly paragraphs 22, 25, 30 and 35
Further reading: Roghayeh Rezaei, IranWire, “Oppression in the Guise of Law: What Do We Know About the Bill on Countering Foreign Influence?”, 20 August 2026 (Persian)
