For a group of people who purport to hate us so much, they sure do go for Western style.  Look closely, and you’ll see he is wearing Mechanix gloves. Hell, his “Airborne” patch is even in English. You’ll never catch one of our guys rocking one of those in Farsi.  To be fair, we (along with British SAS) did train the Iranians a good bit during the Cold War and they’ve seemed to have carried on the culture here and there.

 

 

Who are the Fatehin?

The Fatehin, not your garden-variety goons, are the Revolutionary Guards (IRGC) shadow warriors with skills sharpened beyond the Basij’s rabble. These are Tehran’s new breed of midnight marauders, dressed to kill in official regalia, stalking the cityscape with a predator’s grace. The word “Fatehin” itself translates to “conquerors.”

Spawned in the dark alleys of 1999’s Meqdad district, these airborne specters were the brainchild of West Tehran’s Basijis. They were an answer to a whisper in the wind, a call for a more sinister, cohesive strike force within the Basij’s chaotic ranks.

Commander Mahmoud Hashemi, a man who’s seen the darkness and danced with the devil, spilled the beans to the Tasnim news agency in 2020. He spoke of the unit’s birth from the shadows of July 9, 1999, a time when the Basij’s security complex was a headless beast, craving direction and deadly precision.

Their baptism by fire came a year later, as Tehran’s streets boiled over with the anniversary angst of ’99. Under the steely gaze of Tehran’s command base, the Fatehin descended like dark angels of death wherever the flames of revolt flickered.

Their prowess in quelling the uprising caught the eye of Rahim Safavi, then the top dog of the IRGC. Impressed, he crowned them his own. The 2009 protests further cemented their bloody legacy as they waded through the streets, leaving silence in their wake.

By 2012, their infamy was sealed with an official stamp and a name that whispered dread – Fatehin. Even the IRGC’s ivory towers, those academic sanctuaries, clamored to glean pearls from the depths of their dark arts.

But their dance with death wasn’t confined to Iran’s borders. They were the vanguard in Syria, zealots guarding Lady Zaynab’s Shrine, and Bashar Assad’s willing executioners, reveling in the crimson tide of war.

Recently, the grim reapers of Fatehin took under their wing the security of the Behesht Zahra Organization, a testament to their growing shadow over Tehran’s throbbing heart and global aspirations.

So here they stand, the Fatehin, not just a unit but a dark omen. Their creed is to smother the fires of rebellion, to silence the desperate cries for freedom. And in their wake, they leave tales of horror, of unarmed citizens, women, and children whose only sin was to dream of a daybreak free from the night’s terror.

Mark my words; you’ll be hearing more from these monsters in the near future.