Middle Eastern Studies

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Refugees and migrants in Iran: the Iran-Iraq war

(1980–88) and the Intifada (1991)

Shaherzad Ahmadi

To cite this article: Shaherzad Ahmadi (2023): Refugees and migrants in Iran:
the Iran-Iraq war (1980–88) and the Intifada (1991), Middle Eastern Studies, DOI:
10.1080/00263206.2023.2183196

To link to this article: https://doi.org/10.1080/00263206.2023.2183196

Published online: 13 Mar 2023.

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Middle Eastern Studies
https://doi.org/10.1080/00263206.2023.2183196

Refugees and migrants in Iran: the Iran-Iraq war (1980–88)

and the Intifada (1991)
Shaherzad Ahmadi
Department of History, University of St Thomas, St Paul, Minnesota, USA

Thus far, the literature around the Iran-Iraq War has focused on three central, and interconnected,
topics: the character of the invading party, Saddam Hussein,1 the culture of martyrdom that
engulfed Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini’s Iran following the 1979 revolution,2 and military histories
of the conflict itself.3 These categories overlap, of course, but little attention has been paid to
local histories of the war, including the observable demographic and commercial changes in
border towns and surrounding provinces, tasked with accommodating an influx of refugees and
evacuees. This article seeks to address this gap in historiography and suggests new lines of inquiry.
‘Refugees and Migrants in Iran’ offers a social history, with an emphasis on migrants (both
domestic and international) and the institutions built to support those migrants. To that end, I
introduce Iraq’s 1991 Shaʿban Intifada as a crucial part of Iranian history, and a continuation of
a broader story of national belonging opened by Saddam Hussein’s invasion of Khuzistan in 1980.
Migration between Iran and Iraq had, of course, existed long before Saddam Hussein’s invasion.
Indeed, migration was a core feature of the social fabric of border provinces like Khuzistan (Iran)
and Basra (Iraq).4 Iraqi deportations, which various regimes in Baghdad ordered throughout the
twentieth century, opened lasting debates about the ‘true’ nationality of vulnerable, and often
geographically peripheral, communities. Nevertheless, the period between 1980–1991 proved
crucial, as Iran’s Arab Khuzistanis and Iraq’s Marshland Arab Shiʿis moved from their traditional
homelands, transforming the demographic makeup of a politically contested borderland region.
The Iraqi rebellion, which began on 1 March and continued until 5 April 1991, spanned
northern and southern Iraq as Kurds and Arab Shiʿis attempted to overthrow the seemingly
vulnerable Baʿth Party. Many believed Baghdad could not survive the military and economic
pressures of the Iran-Iraq and Gulf Wars. The Baʿth, however, proved victorious over the rebels
and began an aggressive policy of forced relocation, moving the Marsh Arabs out of their
historic homeland in Iraq’s southeastern frontier.
Migration patterns, and the experiences of migrants, allow historians to examine the shifting
parameters of belonging, borders, and citizenship. In the last decade, this topic has garnered
more attention due to the Syrian refugee crisis5 and the spread of Afghan refugees.6 These
studies often focus on a) the migrant or non-citizen as establishing the limits of nationality, b)
the economic and social integration of migrant groups, as they experience similar disappoint-
ments and aspirations as the general population, and c) the settlement patterns of migrants
who create enclaves and establish commercial enterprises to support each other. Aside from
studies of Afghan refugees, scholars of Iran have not emphasized the migrant phenomenon,
particularly the undocumented migrants who have played a role in the black market, largely
because experts of twentieth-century Iran often describe Iran’s borders as ‘closed’ by Reza Shah
(r. 1925–41) and his son Mohammad Reza Shah (r. 1941–79) in the mid-twentieth century. As
Stephanie Cronin writes, the ‘consolidation of a state bureaucracy and the establishment of a

CONTACT Shaherzad Ahmadi srahmadi@stthomas.edu

© 2023 Informa UK Limited, trading as Taylor & Francis Group
2 S. AHMADI

modern army’ in the Pahlavi period resulted in ‘an end to the easy permeability of the border
between the forces of law and the outlaw’.7
It is true that, in the early twentieth century, as Sabri Ates writes, the ‘frontier filter […]
tighten[ed]’, though the constitution of ‘an impregnable wall’ was quite a different matter.8
Historians like Firoozeh Kashani-Sabet and Afshin Marashi have engaged in fruitful research on
the development of national consciousness and borders. These studies offer a critical foundation
for immigration law and emergent modern categories, like citizenship.9 More recently, historians
like Matthew Ellis have explored the experience of border dwellers in the nation-building period
while others, like Mikiya Koyagi, have explained the continued agency of geographically periph-
eral communities.10 This article builds on these advances in the historiography of borderlands11
by illustrating the continued liminality of citizenship and national belonging in the late twentieth
century, especially during times of conflict (the Iran-Iraq War and Iraq’s Intifada).
Changes resulting from the Iran-Iraq War are most observable in the borderland of Khuzistan,
which Saddam Hussein invaded in September 1980, as well as the cities that accepted an influx of
evacuees and refugees, like Isfahan and Shiraz. Hundreds of thousands evacuated the war front while
soldiers from all over the country filled the borderland to defend Iran’s territorial integrity. Iraqi ref-
ugees in 1991, too, many of whom initially fled to Khuzistan, ultimately settled in these same provincial
capitals, including Isfahan and Shiraz. By focusing on the province of Khuzistan from the period of
the war to the Intifada, I capture two communities that struggled to find a foothold in the borderland
– Iranian evacuees of the Iran-Iraq War (1980–88) and Iraqi refugees of the Shaʿban Intifada.
First, I ask, how did the Islamic Republic deal with the pressure of resettling refugees, par-
ticularly in areas already stretched thin by the exigencies of the revolution and war? Second,
what do settlement patterns reveal about the support refugees and locals offered each other,
outside the purview of state institutions? This social history, although dependent on state
records, reveals much about Khuzistan’s changing demographics and culture, long after most
historians consider the borders of the region more ‘closed’.
In fact, throughout the twentieth century, the Khuzistan-Basra border, like other Iranian bor-
ders, remained porous, as tribes and smugglers took advantage of corrupt border officials, who
accepted bribes and often turned a blind eye to the activities condoned by border dwellers.12
Khorramshahr – later called Khuninshahr, or Bloody City, due to Saddam Hussein’s invasion of
the oil-rich town in September of 1980 – had, historically, maintained a reputation of openness
and engagement with Iraq.13 Indeed, for decades, Iraqi nationalists contended that the oil-rich
towns of Khorramshahr and Abadan (as well as Ahwaz) belonged within Iraqi national borders.14
After the war, however, not only did Iraqis moderate their claim to the Iranian borderland, but
the predominantly Arab natives of towns like Khorramshahr and Abadan found tremendous difficulty
in resettling their native towns, remaining in the cities that had hosted them during the war. In
fact, as a result of the war, the demographics of the borderland dramatically altered. In some cases,
resettlement remained out of reach for the original inhabitants, who could not afford to return.15
Iranian archives, particularly the National Library and Archive of Iran, offer useful data in
assessing not only the patterns of refugee settlement but also Tehran’s limited reach in dictating
provincial policies. Newspapers fill in some of the gaps left by internal state memoranda since
the press demanded answers from these public-facing organizations addressing the needs of
wartime refugees. The evacuation and internal refugee crisis that unfolded during the Iran-Iraq
War, as well as the international refugee crisis following Iraq’s 1991 Intifada, demonstrate the
fluidity of the borderland and the continued struggle of metropoles to control migration, set-
tlement, and assimilation. The late-twentieth century was a time of open borders, with citizenship
in flux and the culture of border towns contested.

The Iran-Iraq War exodus

In September 1980, Saddam Hussein invaded the oil-rich border towns of Khorramshahr and
Abadan. During the war, the Islamic Republic evacuated the region, settling some in the interior
 Middle Eastern Studies 3

of the province and others in neighboring provinces. Cities in the interior, like Shush or Bandar
Imam Khomeini, swelled with migrants who had left their homes with nothing. Many, like those
from Ahmad-Abad (near Abadan), remained in Shush for years, long after Tehran had facilitated
the return of wartime refugees.16
The province of Markazi, northeast of Khuzistan, also accepted immigrants; in early October
of 1980, the mayor of Khomein reported that his city had accepted 4,000 migrants from the
war-torn borderland. Although Mohammad Ansari, the mayor of Khomein, offered a rosy portrait
of a ‘warm welcome’, complete with ‘embraces’ and various committees busy with the work of
caring for ‘Khuzistani guests’, the situation proved far more complex in most areas, perhaps
including Khomein.17 The seams were noticeable less than a year after the invasion, in early 1981,
as towns and cities demanded more action from the federal government to address the crisis.
In October 1980, a month after the invasion, Iranians from all over the country donated
foodstuffs and slaughtered livestock, and provided diapers to struggling families.18 As the years
went by, and inflation worsened, these donations proved increasingly difficult to collect.19 The
state took a more dominant role in not only providing for refugees but addressing their long-term
settlement in new locales. To that end, within weeks of the invasion, the Islamic Republic cre-
ated the Boniad-i Umur-i Jang-zadigan (later renamed Boniad-i Mohajirin-i Jang-i Tahmili or
Foundation for Immigrant Affairs of the Imposed War, henceforth Boniad).20 The Boniad described
its mission as maintaining family unity and finding employment for those forced to migrate
because of the war.21 Mostafa Mir Salim, whose educational background was in engineering,
served as the supervisor of the organization until June 1981. The Guardian Council and Parliament
struggled to decide where the Boniad belonged administratively; first, it was assigned to the
Deputy Prime Minister’s office; then, by mid-1981, the parliament reassigned the group to the
purview of the Ministry of Interior.22
This likely derived from the expansion of the organization and an influx of funds that required
greater engagement with various municipalities and governors throughout the country. In June
of 1981, Ittilaʿat declared that 90,000 refugees had taken refuge in Tehran, beleaguered and
impoverished. Although the article offers almost no information about the lives of these refugees
or the welcome (lack of welcome, perhaps) they received in Tehran, the journalist suggests that
they were living in apartments (likely subsidized) with few resources.23 One hundred thousand
had settled in the province of Fars (adding 4 per cent of its total population)24 and, according
to the Boniad, another 100,000 refugees had settled in the province of Bushihr (adding 25 per
cent of its total population).25 When the refugees arrived in Fars, and presumably other prov-
inces, the provincial director of the Boniad met with the governor along with local mayors to
determine the capacity of villages and towns.26
In 1981, the estimated cost of a refugee in Bushihr was around 1,000 rial per person per
month. Unsurprisingly, this province, just south of Khuzistan, faced a challenge to put these
refugees to work. The Boniad’s Bushihr division declared that it had supported the province in
successfully absorbing the refugees, putting both women and men to work in the local econ-
omy.27 The unions in Isfahan commented that smaller industries slowly developed with the skills
brought by Khuzistan’s evacuees, but that the province faced many challenges ahead, as the
governor of the province accommodated these new workers.28
Before his resignation and the Boniad’s reassignment to the Ministry of the Interior, Mir Salim
and the Boniad had allocated 700 million tumans for the ‘housing, nutrition, health’, and other
issues that arose for the wartime evacuees. He estimated that, in June 1981, there were 1.75
million refugees.29 If Bushihr’s 1,000 rials per person per month was an average cost throughout
the country, the 700 million tumans would last a total of four months (other reports, however,
estimated 9.5 million tumans devoted to spending in cities and towns to house refugees).30
The Boniad considered all of these refugees their charge, and they would continue to lean on
the Boniad for support for over a decade.31 Thus, from the beginning, the Boniad was under-
funded and dependent on other organizations, as well as donations, 32 to fulfill its
responsibilities.
4 S. AHMADI

Some cities could not offer support and transported refugees to other places. For instance, in
April 1981, the national newspaper reported that Jiroft, a city in the province of Kirman, moved
7,020 refugees to other cities in Kirman. The city reasoned that the ‘water and air’ (ab va hava) of
Rafsanjan, Sirjan, and Kirman proved superior to Jiroft and, therefore, for the sake of the refugees,
they would facilitate their exit from the city.33 According to experts, Jiroft could sustain 15,000
(on the high end for shahraks, or small towns).34 By ushering out a little under half of its refugee
capacity, however, the true number these camps could house was, likely, a great deal lower. Jiroft
noted that Kirman had devoted five hundred buildings to housing refugees; the refugee camp of
the former could not compare. The director of the Jiroft camp stated, ‘attentive to the strides made
by the governor of Kirman […], at this point, 70 per cent of the construction of the Bardisir camp
has been completed’; it would accept refugees from all over the province and could house 15–
16,000 people.35 Thus, the Islamic Republic and the organizations empowered to handle the wartime
refugees struggled to cooperate with local leadership in smaller towns, in particular.
In 1982, the Islamic Republic encouraged Khuzistanis to return home to repopulate the
borderland. This process, however, proved lengthy, and, well into the 1990s, the central state
continued to relieve residents of the financial pressure associated with living in a war-torn
province, allotting them land,36 delaying payments for fines,37 and supporting new businesses.38
Umur-i Bazgasht va Ishtiqal-i Mohajirin, or Foundation for Returnees and Employment of
Immigrants, as well as the Boniad, cooperated in assessing the circumstances of returnees in
the region in order to deliver and fund needed services. These organizations cooperated with
Sitad-i Markazi Bazsazi va Nowsazi-i Manatiq-i Jangzadeh Kishvar, or the Headquarters of the
Reconstruction and Renewal of the Country’s War-Torn Regions (henceforth Sitad),39 founded in
1982, just as the parliament increased the issuance of housing credits and subsidized loans to
refugees.40 Through the 1980s, the Boniad struggled to meet the needs of locals,41 communicate
vital information to relevant municipalities,42 and pay its debts43 – despite its coordination with
private donors and other nonprofit agencies.
In the mid-1980s, the Boniad was besieged by requests for financial support, and the Boniad
struggled to meet the needs of migrants who could not pay their rent,44 or their electric and
water bills.45 In 1985, one headquarters located in Shush oversaw 1,007 families, or 6,548 people.
Another headquarters in Shush serviced 274 families, or 1,566 people.46 These were extraordinary
numbers of families dependent on the state for far longer than many had anticipated in the
early days of the war.
Further, the influx of war refugees coincided with a significant increase in the birth rate of
‘around 3.8–3.9 per cent annually,’47 placing even greater pressure on these communities to increase
their social services. The Boniad reached out to businesses in an attempt to support the commercial
districts of the region, including the Umur-i Asnaf-i Bazargan, or the organization of Merchant Guild
Affairs, in Khuzistan.48 Although their interest likely derived from stemming the black market,49 it
is evident that the responsibility for employing and settling refugees fell not only to the state but
also locals who funded and lent other types of support to these desperate families.
The governor of Khuzistan argued that the Boniad and other similar organizations had made
various promises to fund ventures, procure machinery, and offer other services but had never
paid for them, leaving Khuzistanis with the bill.50 The governor was not necessarily wrong.
Ultimately, these foundations could not operate long-term in the region.51 In 1994, the Sitad
lamented that the funds devoted to migrants and veterans had simply not reached the target
populations, with only 25 per cent spent on veterans and the families of martyrs and a paltry
12 per cent spent on refugees.52 Through 1995, the Sitad stated that migrants had not received
compensation for household goods lost in the war and the representatives questioned the
utility of rebuilding in damaged areas and recommended rebuilding in new locations. The
landscape of borderland cities rapidly changed and, in many ways, became unrecognizable to
those who had grown up there.53 In 1995, for instance, Dizful’s branch of the Boniad dissolved
and its property was clumsily transferred to the local municipality.54
 Middle Eastern Studies 5

Overall, the reconstruction of the borderland proved to be a slow-moving process, with

various foundations and organizations devoted to the needs of returnees closing, failing to pay
their debts,55 and leaving municipalities, themselves poor, unable to support the original resi-
dents of the region. We do not find, in these records, signs of a strong state, capable of man-
aging the demographic pressures placed on various municipalities, themselves in need of more
government services for rapidly growing populations. It is unsurprising that, instead, we find
refugees supporting each other and refusing to return to their native towns, appreciative of
the economic pressures that would greet them in the borderland. This suggests not only com-
munal cooperation but also migrant agency, as they made strategic decisions regarding when
they would move, where they would settle, and how they would engage with their new locales.

Settlement patterns
Studies of the war refugees – of which there are surprisingly few and exist mostly in the form
of Iranian dissertations56 – are typically local or provincial sociologies, as researchers examine
sample sets of these demographics and assess their patterns of settlement. In the early days,
the pattern seemed that many fled to urban areas, though this was hardly unique to wartime
refugees. Iran’s urbanization accelerated during the early days of the revolution, as journalists
commented at the time.57
The state did invest some effort in settling these populations in smaller towns rather than
big cities, building refugee camps in small towns throughout the country; nevertheless, most
settled in urban areas, putting increasing pressure on cities growing rapidly due to the high
birth rate at the time. Large numbers found themselves in the cities of Shiraz (the capital of
the province of Fars) and Isfahan (the capital of the province of Isfahan). For instance, toward
the end of the war in 1986, the majority of the refugees who found themselves in Fars settled
in Shiraz – up to 69 per cent.58 This is to be expected, given the greater opportunities accessible
to migrants in cities compared to rural areas.
By 1989, the city of Abadan experienced a dramatic reduction in its population due to the
evacuations. A city that had featured in the top ten most populated since Iran conducted these
surveys, beginning in 1956, did not appear at all in the national 1989 census which listed the
top 41 most populated cities.59 Significantly, Khorramshahris and Abadanis, from the border
towns most affected by the war, seemed to gravitate toward regions that reminded them of
home, where locals shared their cultural frame of reference, however. This is not inconsistent
with past patterns for migrants and refugees. Studies conducted by the University of Tehran
in the early 1970s concluded this, as well, with respect to Iraqi refugees in Iran. In fact, the
researchers argued that the similar climate, media, and culture caused many Iranian-Iraqis as
well as Iraqi exiles to settle in the province of Khuzistan, despite the absence of family.60
The documents from the Islamic Republic suggest that, in the 1980s, many Khuzistanis from
the borderland settled in the interior of their home province; for instance, the cities of Shush,61
in the north, and Bandar Imam Khomeini,62 in the south on the Persian Gulf, absorbed many
from the borderland. Perhaps these refugees were Arab since about 68 per cent of those who
settled in the province of Fars identified as Persian.63 Considering the ethnic makeup of
Khorramshahr and Abadan, it seems plausible that many Arab refugees chose to remain in
Khuzistan, perhaps because they had family in other Khuzistani cities or felt comfortable residing
in a province with a more familiar demographic.
Many Khuzistanis, probably skewed toward Persian speakers, however, settled in Shiraz. The
population of the city leapt from 425,813 in 1978 to 848,289 (doubling) in 1989.64 Although
the birth rate increased and some urbanization would have taken place regardless of wartime
exigencies, a significant number of borderland refugees had settled in the city, as well. Consider
the 100,000 wartime evacuees Fars accepted and the fact that Bijan Zareʿ estimated that, in
1986, 69 per cent of these evacuees settled in Shiraz. If that population had not decreased
6 S. AHMADI

(due to out-migration) or increased (due to a natural fertility rate), then about 16 per cent of
Shiraz’s population growth derived from the wartime evacuations – a topic worthy of study for
scholars of urban history, particularly the history of cities like Shiraz, Isfahan, or Bushihr.
Iranian researchers have conducted sociological analyses of the refugees, focusing on urban
centers like Shiraz, examining their patterns of settlement and life experience in host cities. In
one study, a sample set of 754 respondents were asked a series of questions, including whether
or not they felt out of place, whether or not they felt welcomed by Shirazis, and so on. The
responses suggest that Khuzistanis did not feel at home in Shiraz, despite their decision to remain
there. 61 per cent felt out of place in Shiraz, 34 per cent did not feel Shirazis welcomed them,
63 per cent did not have regular interactions with Shirazis (suggesting a lack of integration), 67
per cent did not use Shirazi vernacular, 62 per cent did not express feelings of warmth for Shirazis
(interesting, considering that a majority believed Shirazis had, by and large, welcomed them).65
It appears that the Khuzistani migrants in the urban center of the province of Fars felt ill at ease
in Shiraz, despite the fact that most of the migrants were Persian, with almost 68 per cent iden-
tifying as Persian and only 30 per cent identifying as Arab.66 Therefore, it is not unreasonable to
assume that many Arabs did not leave the province of Khuzistan because they assumed the
challenge of assimilating to a Persian-speaking environment would prove too arduous.
This opens interesting questions about the communities they did build in the city, which
reflected their native culture. Regional culture remained important to the settlement of Khuzistanis
(as it had to Iranian emigres exiled from Iraq in the 1970s).67 These Persians and Arabs who
had evacuated border towns felt they did not share enough with the locals of Shiraz, despite
the shared ethnolinguistic heritage of most of these refugees.
Wartime evacuees also, unsurprisingly, felt nostalgia about their lives before the war. For instance,
although homeownership among this population was not dramatically lower in the postwar period,
most Khuzistanis reported that they were now poorer in 1996 than they had been preceding the
war – meaning some who did not fall in socioeconomic status still felt they had been negatively
disadvantaged by the conflict. 68.8 per cent of Khuzistani households in the province of Fars owned
their homes68 (this indicates a difference in rural and urban home ownership, with only 31 per
cent of Khuzistani families in Shiraz owning their homes).69 Still, 14 per cent were unemployed
and 60 per cent qualified as poor.70 The number of people using public housing leapt from 24
per cent before the war to 40 per cent after the war, indicating the largest shift in living circum-
stances for this population.71 Thus, Khuzistanis who had settled in the province of Fars, although
mostly Persians (thus, a demographic predisposed to assimilating well in places like Shiraz, where
Farsi is the dominant language), struggled to find economic success and personal satisfaction,
congregating in their own communities and refusing to adopt local ways of life or vernacular.
For those who returned to their towns of origin, there was little government support.
Commercial properties had not been rebuilt by 1995, with many business owners unable to
exchange goods legitimately in the open market. Those who did return to live in the residential
areas, especially in Khorramshahr, did not have deeds to their homes and the government
struggled to assess the true ownership of local properties. Many did not want to rebuild and
simply wanted compensation for what they had lost to remain in distant provinces. And what
of the former residents who opted to rebuild with state money – did they not inherit property
worth more than their original housing? The Sitad appealed to the state to guide them on these
matters. Given the fact that the local government could hardly exact high taxes from commercial
businesses and so many were unwilling to even return, there was little money to invest.72
Thus, the failure of the Islamic Republic to reconstruct the borderland caused many border
dwellers to settle elsewhere in Khuzistan and surrounding provinces. This resulted in regional
enclaves. Just as ethnic and regional groups had created their own communities in Abadan and
Khorramshahr (with their own mosques and neighborhoods) in the 1960s, 73 the wartime exodus
created similar circumstances in the provinces of Fars and Khorasan. At the same time, Khuzistan
itself greeted a flood of Iraqi refugees from the 1991 Intifada – some of whom applied for
 Middle Eastern Studies 7

official residency and some of whom settled clandestinely, perhaps planning to return when
the situation in Iraq calmed. The war thus increased migration (both internal and external),
offered opportunities for assimilation and separation, required local cooperation, and forced
migrants to advocate for their interests.

Iraq’s Intifada
Just as Iran attempted to rebuild the war-torn towns of Khuzistan in particular, by attracting original
residents back, the Islamic Republic faced demographic pressure from Iraq as refugees streamed
into the country following the 1991 Intifada. Iraq’s Intifada transformed the relationship between
Shiʿis and their state in Baghdad. As Dina Khoury writes, ‘From the beginning, it was clear to those
working on the ground that while the rebellion was primarily a Shiʿi one, it was not by any means
a rebellion by all Shiʿa. It was, therefore, essential to weed out those who were amenable to reha-
bilitations – those who proved loyal – from those who constituted a threat to the regime’s security.’74
Disloyalty became a justification for withholding an individual’s birthright to citizenship.
The Islamic Republic, observing the Baʿth Party’s policies after the Intifada, came to assume
that many of these Marsh Arabs would seek refuge in Iran and considered this an opportunity
on which they could capitalize, especially on the global stage. In the years between the con-
clusion of the war (1988) and the Intifada (1991), there were a number of Iraqis who had
traveled to Iran and applied for legal residency, of course. They were, however, significantly
outnumbered by Afghans.75 Of those who did come, few wished to settle in Khuzistan. After
all, postwar Khuzistan was no place to settle, especially as an Iraqi. Settling in Tehran or Isfahan
would have been wiser and, indeed, many Iraqis did settle in more metropolitan areas.76
One list of applicants for legal residency status from 1988 reveals only two applicants settling
in Khuzistan, while the majority settled in Kurdistan (indicative of the ethnic makeup of these
applicants) and Tehran.77 This would be in stark contrast to the period following the Intifada,
when refugees flooded into Abadan specifically, as the Islamic Republic struggled to accom-
modate them in refugee camps. Most settled in Khuzistan and Loristan, though the province
of Loristan attempted to bar migrants from settling in the province.
A week after the Intifada began in March 1991, the Red Crescent Society, Iran’s largest
non-governmental organization, serviced more than three thousand Iraqis who had entered Abadan,78
their numbers increasing ‘hour by hour’.79 The Red Crescent Society itself has a deep history in Iran.
Founded in 1922 as Iran’s Red Lion and Sun Society, the organization ‘was officially recognized
beside the Red Cross and Red Crescent emblems’ in 1929. ‘With the victory of the Revolution in
1979’, the institution changed and, in September 1980, the Islamic Republic notified the ‘Red Crescent
and Red Cross World Federation […] it relinquish[ed] its right to use the Red Lion and Sun emblem
and […] use[d] the Red Crescent emblem for its own Society.’ Officially called Hilal-i Ahmar after
1984, the organization represented one of the most productive NGOs in the region.80
By the conclusion of the Intifada, in April, the Red Crescent had spent 46,237,920 rials (or
around 4.5 million tumans).81 By late July 1991, the refugee camps in Abadan had been vacated82
and the Islamic Republic, in partnership with organizations like the Red Crescent Society, busily
relocated the Iraqis throughout Khuzistan and Loristan.83 Although they dispersed the population
so that a large number would not concentrate in the borderland, many inevitably remained in
Abadan and Khorramshahr without notifying the Islamic Republic. Thus, political upheaval in
Iraq resulted in a major demographic and cultural transformation of the Iranian borderland, as
political upheavals in Iraq had done throughout the twentieth century.

Iraqi refugees
Although I do not have access to granular information, like interviews with refugees, we can
glean a great deal about their experiences of migration and settlement from government records.
8 S. AHMADI

These records vary from national to regional to local data, often contradicting each other in
important ways, which I enumerate here. As usual, locals bore the burden of accommodating
the refugees, offering their support to organizations like the Red Crescent. ‘Several schools,
mosques, hotels, gyms and homes in Abadan’ were used as ‘temporary housing for the migrants’
as the state organized ‘relief supplies’ for these newcomers. One elementary school, which
applied to the Red Crescent for support in offering migrants and refugees provisions, housed
a staggering fifty-five families (a total of 312 people).84
In early May, two months after the first refugees began entering the country, the governor
of Khuzistan complained that the province had not received the funds required to house and
feed the refugees who had arrived. Each individual required 5,400 rials per month (compare
this to the cost of Khuzistani refugees in 1981 Bushihr estimated at around 1,000 rials per
month per person) in an average-sized city (of fifty thousand people), he stated. He proved
emphatic that Tehran had not provided these funds, forcing local officials and residents to
compensate for the difference.85
If this estimate of 5,400 per month per refugee is correct, then the amount of money the
Red Crescent had spent in the month of March had been woefully lacking (twenty-one million
rials would only cover around 4,000 people, one thousand more than under their purview,
though; nevertheless, this left 25,000 documented migrants and refugees unsupported). The
Islamic Republic had devoted 500 million rials to their settlement, which would have covered
30,000 migrants over the course of three months.
The Governor of Khuzistan, however, insisted that the number was far greater than the
Islamic Republic imagined, estimating 65,000 migrants. If this number is correct, nearly half of
Abadan would have been comprised of refugees when they first arrived at the camps in 1991.
The Islamic Republic, he insisted, would have to devote at least 810 million rials to accommo-
date this population in Khuzistan.86 In 1992, the Committee for Human Rights issued a report
on the humanitarian crisis following the Iraqi Intifada, in which the lawyers working for the
committee asserted that over 50,000 had been issued residency permits in Iran.87 Much more
was needed from Tehran and, in the meantime, locals were responsible for supporting these
Iraqis, allowing them to slowly integrate into Khuzistan.
Rather quickly, Khuzistanis began to engage in commerce with Iraqis, illustrating the speed with
which refugees became part of the social and financial economy of the borderland. Just as they had
in the past, Iraqis offered their services to locals – during this wave, however, their services were put
to use in order to rebuild a region their country of origin, Iraq, had destroyed just a few years earlier.
In August 1991, Ahmad Ali Gol Mohammadi and Gholam-Hossein Gholam-ʿAlian purchased a truck
from an Iraqi migrant with the intention of offering ‘their services to the city and reconstructing’ it.88
The city of Abadan allowed the transportation of the truck and, with that, an Iraqi not only became
part of the local economy but also supportive of the reconstruction of Khuzistan after the war. These
reciprocal relationships, with Iraqi migrants and locals cooperating economically and personally,
contributed to the open social fabric, nurtured by border dwellers throughout the century.
Indeed, although many thousands entered Iran during the Intifada in March-April 1991, Iraqis
continued to enter the country through the 1990s, long after the Intifada. Some of these Iraqi
refugees were originally Iranian;89 some, invariably, were not. The Islamic Republic framed the
refugees as Shiʿis searching for a homeland that reflected their values – the state, however,
also acknowledged that many of these Iraqis had family in Iran and moved for personal reasons.
Tehran’s animosity toward Saddam Hussein caused them to protect migrants, once arrested as
saboteurs or contrabandists, now bandied about as proof of Saddam Hussein’s cruelty and the
Islamic Republic’s commitment to human rights.90
Refugees found a home in Khuzistan, where other provinces outright rejected their settle-
ment. With the influx of an increasing number of borderland Iraqis, Loristan insisted that they
had no room for any migrants. The Governor of Khuzistan complained that, of a measly 1,080
people settled, Loristan had ‘sent 566 back’ – perhaps to Khuzistan – and did not want to
 Middle Eastern Studies 9

accommodate the remaining 514, while Khuzistan had many thousands to settle.91 The governor
of Khuzistan busily found these migrants housing and advocated for their interests, while noting
that the province he represented had been disproportionately burdened.
Where did these refugees settle? Many had already experienced deportation to Iran ‘during
the early years of the Iran-Iraq war, when the Baath regime summarily deported tens of thou-
sands […] on the grounds that they were of “Iranian origin.”’92 The initial influx of 1991 that
resulted in between 25–29,000 migrants (on paper, for there were clearly many undocumented
migrants) transformed the city of Dizful, for instance, as nearly half settled there. Below, I
reproduce a table sent from the province of Khuzistan to Tehran.93 This table, however, does
not capture the full scope of migration into Khuzistan. For instance, Ahwaz is not included in
the official tallies – neither in this one, nor other similar tables drawn up later that year. Does
this mean that no refugees settled in the provincial capital of Ahwaz? Unlikely, particularly
since, historically, urban areas attracted a significant number of migrants and refugees.
As noted earlier, in May, a month before the following chart had been tallied, the Governor
of Khuzistan supposed that the true number of Iraqis who had traveled to Khuzistan to settle
in the tent camps of Abadan was ‘more than 65 thousand Iraqi refugees’.94 Had all but 334
been moved out of Abadan? Considering many moved close to family,95 it is possible that some
migrants did not apply for identification documents because an infrastructure already existed
for undocumented migrants to find employment and residency.

3,204 Andimishk (northern Khuzistan – populated by Lors, Bakhtiari, and Kurds)

334 Abadan (southwest frontier – populated by Arabs and Persians)
1,391 Ramhormoz (eastern Khuzistan – populated by Bakhtiari and Arabs)
12,230 Dizful (northern Khuzistan – populated by Persians and Bakhtiari)
3,650 Shushtar (central-northern Khuzistan – populated by Persians and Bakhtiari)
1,733 Shush (northeastern Khuzistan – populated by Lors, Arabs, and Bakhtiari)
885 Masjidsolaiman (central Khuzistan – populated by Bakhtiari)
1,351 Hovaizeh (central-western Khuzistan – populated by Arabs)
2,700 Khorramshahr (southwestern Khuzistan – populated by Arabs, Persians, and Kurds)

Although it is apparent that many settled in the borderland without applying for documen-
tation, the cities of Abadan and Khorramshahr had been stretched too thin and, it appears,
migrants either gravitated to the north-central area of Khuzistan or were placed there by the
state. After all, many of the borderland’s original residents had deserted the region, refusing to
return after the war. Thus, the infrastructure lacking, Iraqis likely had few economic opportunities
but also a greater likelihood of avoiding the surveillance state. The fact that so many were
undocumented also meant that the cities hosting migrants would never have enough resources,
as the state only acknowledged the documented migrants.
Regardless, there were few resources at the disposal of the local city government. The mayor
of Abadan argued that the city simply could not absorb a large number of migrants. Abadan
needed to be rebuilt in order to invite its former residents, evacuated during the war, to return
to the region. If the refugees from Iraq were allowed to remain, the mayor stated, the majority
of the town’s resources would be devoted to outsiders, who did not arrive with independent
wealth to establish themselves.96
Cognizant of Tehran’s political vulnerability in the war-torn borderland but also hesitant to
reject a Shiʿi population deported by Saddam Hussein, the state encouraged settlement in
north-central Khuzistan like Dizful and Andimishk rather than Khorramshahr and Abadan (though
the two latter cities served as depots where camps were built to temporarily house these
migrants). After all, Tehran – and the representatives in Abadan – appreciated that this was
only the beginning and the Islamic Republic had to develop a plan to properly address the
needs of these migrants as they continued to trickle in through the 1990s.
10 S. AHMADI

In February 1994, the governor of Khuzistan expressed frustration that 5,000 Iraqis had
crossed into his province; although they had been relocated to the province of Fars in January
1994, an additional 1,800 migrants had come from Iraq that February.97 Just when it seemed
the provincial government had gotten its hands around the situation, another stream of migrants
would arrive. It seems that the central state assumed that an equal number of Iraqi migrants
would settle in the provinces of Fars and Khuzistan, given they invested about 100 million rials
in both Khuzistan and Fars (compared to 50 million rials for Loristan) – though settling in
Khuzistan was likely cheaper than in Fars, suggesting a larger number of migrants remained in
Khuzistan, where they were first placed by the state.98
Nevertheless, many of these migrants chose to return to Iraq. In fact, even during the initial
influx in 1991, many organized themselves to return to Iraq immediately, in keeping with the
long history of migration (especially forced migration) in the Iran-Iraq borderland. Dina Khoury
describes one party member from Basra, for instance, ‘who was taken as a prisoner to Iran (to
Dezful prison) and then released to his family that had camped in a refugee camp within the
borders of Iran’.99 These numbers were, thus, in flux. In fact, between May and late June, the
number of settled Iraqis decreased from 27,478 to 19,600.100 This means that more than ten
thousand people had either left the country and/or were no longer counted in the official tally
after successfully petitioning for Iranian citizenship.
In July 1993, thirteen refugees who settled in Ahwaz had been issued identification docu-
ments and one person’s application was still under review; fifteen had been issued in Dasht-i
Azadigan with one still under review; four applications were still under review in Shushtir, with
none issued. Critically, no identification had been issued or appeared under review in Abadan,
Dizful, Shadigan, Khorramshahr, Abadan, Andimishk, or Shush.101 Does that mean that some of
the towns most famous for migrant settlement (Khorramshahr, Abadan, Shush, and Dizful) had
welcomed no newcomers? Considering the fact that the largest number of refugees filtered
into the country through Abadan, resulting in massive refugee camps in the city in 1991,102 I
would argue that traditional hubs of migration in the borderland continued to attract a large
number of migrants. Evidently, however, many did not feel obligated to apply for documentation
to find work, residency, or access to other needs.
There are local records that complicate national tallies. The city of Dizful, for instance, reported
to Tehran that the medical facilities were no longer adequate for the influx of migrants and
included the number of Iraqis who had used medical services in the city over the course of
the first four months of the year. The local city government stated that, according to reports
by medical facilities, 1,724 people had engaged radiologists, cardiologists, hospitals, and other
services.103 Consider the number of refugees and migrants who would never have engaged
doctors in the city; the 1,724 represented only a sliver of the total Iraqi settlers in the city.
Meaning the same month that Tehran reported a total number of around four thousand migrants
– which included ‘foreign citizens and immigrants’R – in the entire province of Khuzistan, the
city of Dizful complained of 1,724 Iraqis engaging medical services.104 From this alone, we may
easily surmise that the local infrastructure could not support the large number of migrants who
had arrived, nor had the official tallies captured the full picture of resettlement, as many arrived
without documentation and refused to petition for documentation.
If the Islamic Republic planned to integrate Iraqis, however, it would have to educate their
children, issue them identification documents, and offer them services to win their support. For
the state, the more undocumented migrants there were, the more social problems would emerge
– after all, these people would not have access to the benefits of Iranian nationality and, there-
fore, would have no reason to express loyalty to the state. As Ahmad Hosseini, the General
Director of Foreign Citizens and Immigrants within the Ministry of Interior wrote in June 1994,
with legal status, migrants would ‘receive […] social benefits’ like ‘a driver’s license, registration
[…] in public school for their children’ as well as ‘employment in government centers’.105 This
would also localize residency, Hosseini stated, allowing the state to account for foreign-born
 Middle Eastern Studies 11

residents in their calculation for services towns and cities required. Khuzistan had to encourage
these migrants to identify the benefits of registering with the state, despite the fact that their
petitions for settlement could be revoked, causing their deportations.
Hosseini appreciated that many migrants, both foreign-born and Iranian, failed to maintain
residency in a single location, making it difficult for Tehran to assess their numbers. The fact
that so many chose to settle in Khuzistan without officially registering, however, proved consis-
tent with historical patterns of travel and settlement. Furthermore, although the Islamic Republic
was eager to keep Iraqi migrants in Iran,106 it appears that many chose to return to Iraq – proving
the continued fluidity of borderlands.107 The movement between Iran and Iraq thus continued
long after the conclusion of the war and, as a result of the failures of the state, migrants leaned
on locals and their own ability to advocate for their interests to successfully settle.

Conclusion
Who belonged in the Khuzistan borderland and who exerted influence over the settlement of
refugees? The Islamic Republic argued that Iraqi refugees, whether Irani ol-ʿasl or Iraqi Shiʿis, as
well as pre-war natives, belonged within Iranian borders.108 Nevertheless, there were finite
resources and local leaders insisted that the federal government decide which community to
accommodate, whether wartime evacuees or Iraqi refugees. Again, a debate had arisen about
birthright, citizenship, and belonging, reminiscent of the Baʿth Party’s pre-war insistence that
Arab Iranians belonged in Arab-ruled territory.
In the absence of state support, locals accommodated these migrants – both the migrants
from the borderland (either in the interior of Khuzistan or surrounding provinces) and those
settling in Khuzistan from Iraq. Locals engaged in commerce with them, donated money to
charities to support them, rented property to them, and offered them employment. Although
these government foundations were meant to serve these functions, it is evident from the
documentary record that they struggled to do so. Every letter from a migrant asking for resources
suggests that many survived on the charity of locals rather than the funds from the state, which
they often could not access at all.
Iraqis and Khuzistanis moved into and out of provinces – and even countries – when it
suited them. Between 1985–95, Khuzistan experienced a demographic transformation. 273,000
Iranians had settled in Khuzistan, 217,000 Iranians had left Khuzistan, and 522,000 Iranians had
migrated from their hometowns to settle elsewhere within the province.109 The intra-provincial
migration followed familiar patterns, with a significant number of rural residents settling in
more urban environments. In fact, between 1970–2016, the rural population of Khuzistan
decreased from 49 per cent to 25 per cent.110 Thus, the province only netted fifty-six thousand
more Khuzistanis by 1995 than had occupied the province in the middle of the war.
Experts in Iran believed that about half a million Iraqis had migrated to Iran following the
1991 Intifada (still under the one million expected by officials in the 1990s).111 This is not nec-
essarily surprising. Southern Shiʿis, in addition to Kurds, escaped Iraq during the Intifada (though,
most of the estimated 530,000 were Shiʿi Arabs).112 Thus, migrants and border dwellers made
the ultimate decision about when to move, where to settle, and when to leave. In most gov-
ernment data circulating the hands of local and national officials, there were both vurudi
(entrance) data as well as khuruji (exit) data. The General Directorate of Foreign Citizens and
Immigrants received the official tally from Khuzistan for July 1993 in mid-August. Though these
numbers do not distinguish between internally displaced persons and foreign migrants, they
do reveal the constant movement. Two hundred and twenty-two had entered Khuzistan in the
month of July while 185 had left. Although this represented a net increase, many migrants did
not choose to stay, likely for personal and financial reasons.113
Between Iran and Iraq, many traveled as pilgrims, refugees, and smugglers; the borderland,
thus, has taken on a distinctive and diverse character. Historians of Iran, by concluding studies
12 S. AHMADI

of the constitution of citizenship and borders in the mid-twentieth century, have overlooked
the transformations in war zones like Abadan and cities like Shiraz and Bushihr, which welcomed
many evacuees and Iraqis of Iranian descent (as well as Iraqi Shiʿis). Historians of Iran have also
neglected to examine events in Iraqi history, which had profound demographic and cultural
consequences on provinces like Khuzistan, already transformed by the war. Khuzistan, after the
Iran-Iraq War, depended on the few locals left in border towns to manage the evacuees returning
home and the Iraqis fleeing home.
Migration represents a critical lens through which scholars may connect the histories of Iran
and Iraq, as well as the stories of the war and the Intifada. There is much more work to be
done on the topic of the war outside the established themes explored in the introduction of
this article. I hope that this piece has offered some possible lines of inquiry, including studies
of urbanization, employment, and citizenship. Khuzistan’s borderland represented a liminal space
in which states exerted limited influence, like other borderlands around the world, well into
the twentieth century.
Although the state planned to relocate refugees back to the borderland, many refused to
return; although the state planned to maintain a population of Iraqi emigres, many returned
home; although the state planned to supply funds to wartime evacuees, these populations
leaned on each other and locals to alleviate the financial burdens associated with the war.
Marginalized populations – especially migrants, like Iran-Iraq War evacuees and Iraqi refugees
– demonstrate both the limits of state power and the continued value of communal bonds,
whether fostered by local political leaders (like mayors and governors) or charitable persons
and groups. Ultimately, the war and the Intifada transformed the demographics of Khuzistan
and the provinces that accepted the refugees in large numbers while also demonstrating the
limited capacity of the Islamic Republic to offer an executable vision for the borderland.

Disclosure statement
No potential conflict of interest was reported by the author.

Notes
1. Kanan Makiya’s Republic of Fear: The Politics of Modern Iraq (Berkeley: University of California Press), published
in 1989, set a standard for this approach to studying the Baʿth Party and Saddam Hussein’s rule, in par-
ticular. There have been more nuanced analyses of Saddam Hussein and his policies during and after the
war, of course, including Amatzia Baram’s Saddam Husayn and Islam, 1968-2003 (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins
University Press, 2014) as well as the work of Achim Rohde, State-Society Relations in Ba’thist Iraq: Facing
Dictatorship (London: Routledge, 2010).
2. This approach draws from many disciplines, including anthropology, film studies, political science, and
history. Just to name a few authors who have emphasized this culture of martyrdom, see Roxanne Varzi,
Warring Souls: Youth, Media, and Martyrdom in Post-Revolution Iran (Durham: Duke University Press, 2006),
Sylwia Surdykowska, Martyrdom and Ecstasy: Emotion Training in Iranian Culture (Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press, 2012), and Pedram Khosronejad, Iranian Sacred Defence Cinema: Religion, Martyrdom and
National Identity (Herefordshire: Sean Kingston Publishing, 2012).
3. This is perhaps the most popular approach to studying the war and continues to draw scholarly attention
with Pierre Razoux’s The Iran-Iraq War (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2015) and Amy Tracy Samuel’s
The Unfinished History of the Iran-Iraq War (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2022). The latter, how-
ever, is different than previous studies in this vein, which take their cues from early studies like those of
Dilip Hiro or Williamson Murray and Kevin Woods. Samuel’s emphasis on the Islamic Republic’s Revolutionary
Guard’s memory and historiography adds to the pathbreaking study done by Dina Khoury, from the Iraqi
perspective and leaning on Baʿth Party records in the United States, Iraq in Wartime: Soldiering, Martyrdom,
and Remembrance (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2013).
4. Camille Lyans Cole, ‘The Ottoman Model: Basra and the Making of Qajar Reform, 1881-1889’, Comparative
Studies in Society and History Vol.64, no. 4 (2022), pp.1024–1054; Shaherzad Ahmadi, ‘Smugglers, Migrants
and Refugees: The Iran-Iraq Border, 1925–1975’, International Journal of Middle East Studies Vol.52, no. 4
(December 2020), pp.703–18.
 Middle Eastern Studies 13

5. Dawn Chatty, Syria: The Making and Unmaking of a Refuge State (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2018);
Alanur Çavlin (ed.), Syrian Refugees in Turkey: A Demographic Profile and Linked Social Challenges (London:
Routledge, 2020).
6. The stories of Afghan immigration relate not only to immigrants bound to Europe or North America but
also immigrants bound for Iran or Pakistan. Joachim Häberlen, Citizens and Refugees: Stories from Afghanistan
and Syria to Germany (London: Routledge, 2022); Ashraf Zahedi, ‘Transnational Marriages, Gendered
Citizenship, and the Dilemma of Iranian Women Married to Afghan Men’, Iranian Studies Vol.40, no. 2 (April
2007), pp.225–39; Robert Crews, Afghan Modern: The History of a Global Nation (Cambridge: Harvard University
Press, 2015).
7. Stephanie Cronin, Tribal Politics in Iran: Rural Conflict and the New State, 1921-1941 (London: Routledge,
2006), p.106.
8. Sabri Ates, Ottoman-Iranian Borderlands: Making a Boundary, 1843-1914 (Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press, 2013), p.6.
9. Firoozeh Kashani-Sabet, Frontier Fictions: Shaping the Iranian Nation, 1804–1946 (Princeton: Princeton University
Press, 1999); Afshin Marashi, Exile and the Nation: The Parsi Community of India and the Making of Modern
Iran (Austin: University of Texas Press, 2020).
10. Matthew Ellis, Desert Borderland: The Making of Modern Egypt and Libya (Palo Alto: Stanford University Press,
2018); Mikiya Koyagi, ‘Tribes and Smugglers in Iran’s Eastern Borderlands, 1921-41’, Iranian Studies Vol.55,
no. 2 (April 2022).
11. Scholars of the Middle East occasionally use the term borderlands, though, at times, their definitions are
not quite distinct from the discipline’s understanding of frontiers, as Linda Darling explains in her infor-
mative ‘The Mediterranean as a Borderland’, Review of Middle East Studies Vol.46, no. 1 (Summer 2012),
pp.54–63. More recently, Fariba Zarinebaf, has explored the value of borderland studies for historians of
the Middle East in ‘Guest Editor’s Introduction: Commercial, Confessional, and Military Encounters in the
Ottoman-Iranian Borderlands in the Early Modern Period’, Iranian Studies Vol.52, no. 3-4 (July 2019).
12. Mikiya Koyagi, ‘Tribes and Smugglers in Iran’s Eastern Borderlands, 1921-41’, Iranian Studies Vol.55, no. 2
(April 2022); Ahmadi, ‘Smugglers, Migrants and Refugees’.
13. Ahmadi, ‘Smugglers, Migrants and Refugees’.
14. See the works of ʿAli Ni‘mat al-Hilu, Mostafa Abd al-Qadir al-Najjar, and Ibrahim Fasih ibn Sibqat Allah
Haidari, among many others.
15. Ministry of the Interior. 26 Jan. 1994. National Library and Archive of Iran (NLAI), 293_010058_18.
16. Municipality of Shush Daniil. 4 January 1986. NLAI, 293_022937_16.
17. Ittila’at, ‘4000 Khahar va Baradar-i Khuzistani dar Rustahaii Khomain Pazirofteh Shodand’ [4000 Brothers
and Sisters of Khuzistan Accepted by the Villages of Khomein], 14 October 1980, p.9.
18. Ittilaʿat, ‘Komakhaii Omat beh-Pak hasteh’ [The People’s Help Is Pure], 30 October 1980, p.4.
19. In fact, the head of the Boniad commented on this as early as May 1981. Ittilaʿāt, ‘Iik Miliun va 700 Hizar
Jang-zadeh zir-i Pushish-i Boniad’ [One Million and 700 Thousand War Refugees Under the Supervision of
the Foundation], 21 May 1981, p.16.
20. Ittilaʿat, ‘Koliat-i Tarh-i Ijad-i Boniad-i Omur-i Jangzadigan beh Tasvib Resid’ [The Complete Plan for the
Development of the Affairs of War Refugees Legislated], 4 May 1981, p.3; Barrisi-i Tahavolat-i Iqtisadi-i Kishvar
Ba’d az Inqilab [Study of the Transformation of the Country’s Economy after the Revolution] (Tehran: Idariii
Barrisihaii Iqtisadi, 1984), p.244.
21. The Foundation for Immigrant Affairs of the Imposed War – Khuzistan. 8 June 1985. NLAI, 293_002937_56.
There was also some acknowledgment about fulfilling the educational needs of families but the Foundation’s
main endeavor appears economic. The Foundation for Immigrant Affairs of the Imposed War – Khuzistan.
24 September 1985. NLAI, 293_002937_57.
22. Ittilaʿat, ‘Bar-Asas-i Iradat-i Shurai-i Nigahban va ba Aksariat Ara’ dar Majlis’ [Regarding the Errors of the
Guardian Council and with the Votes of the Parliament], 6 June 1981, p.3.
23. Ittilaʿat, ‘Avarigan-i Jang dar Tihran Cheh Mī-konand?’ [Those from the War in Tehran Do What?] 7 June
1981, p.5. It is very likely that they were not welcomed, considering the antagonist remarks the mayor at
the time made – cited in the footnote above – about those flooding cities like Tehran, resulting in great-
er urbanization and social pressure.
24. Ittilaʿat, ‘100 Hizar Jang-zadeh Digar dar Fars Ostan Khahand Iaft’ [100 Thousand War Refugees Will Be
Received by the Province of Fārs], 20 May 1981, p.4; A Statistical Reflection of the Islamic Republic of Iran
(Tehran: Statistical Centre of Iran, 1985), p.9.
25. Ittilaʿat, ‘Mohajiran-i Manatiq-i Jangi dar Bushihr beh Kar-i Gomardeh Mi-Shavand’ [The Migrants from the
War-Torn Region in Bushihr Are Ready to Work], 6 June 1981, p.14; A Statistical Reflection of the Islamic
Republic of Iran (Tehran: Statistical Centre of Iran, 1985), p.9.
26. Ittilaʿat, ‘100 Hizar Jang-zadeh Digar dar Fars Ostan Khahand Iaft’ [100 Thousand War Refugees Will Be
Received by the Province of Fars], 20 May 1981, p.4.
27. Ittilaʿat, ‘Mohajiran-i Manatiq-i Jangi dar Bushihr be-Kar-i Gomardeh Mi-Shavand’, 6 June 1981, p.14.
14 S. AHMADI

28. Ittilaʿat, ‘Istifadeh az Tafakor va Khalaqiat-i Mohajiran-i Manatiq-i Jangi dar Sanaii’ Kuchik-i Isfahan’ [Using
the Intellect and Creativity of Migrants from the War-Torn Region in the Small Industries of Isfahān], 20
May 1981, p.4.
29. Ittilaʿat, ‘Beh Jang-zadigan Kart-i Shinasai Dadeh Mi-Shavad’ [An Identification Card Will be Issued to Refugees
of the War], 27 May 1981, p.2.
30. Ittilaʿat, ‘Iik Miliun va 700 Hizar Jangzadeh zir-i Pushish-i Boniad’ [One Million Seven Hundred Thousand
War Refugees under the Supervision of the Foundation], 21 May 1981, p.16.
31. Ibid.
32. Ittilaʿat, ‘Istimdad Boniad-i Jang-zadigan az Mardom’ [Support of Foundation for War Refugees for the
People], 25 May 1981, p.2.
33. Ittilaʿat, ‘7,020 Nafar az Avarigan-i Jangi az Ordugah-i Jiroft beh Digar Shahr-hai-i Kirman Montaqil Shodand’
[7,020 People of those from the War, Moved from Refugee Camps in Jiroft to Other Cities in Kirman], 22
April 1981, p.4.
34. Ittilaʿat, ‘Mizan-i Komak-haii Naqdi-i Mardom beh Jangzadigan I‘lam Shod’ [The Foundation for Financial
Support of the People to War Refugees], 29 April 1981, p.2.
35. Ittilaʿat, ‘7,020 Nafar az Āvārigān-i Jangī,’ 22 April 1981, 4.
36. Khuzistan Governorate. 14 February 1995. NLAI, 293_009705_109.
37. Khuzistan Governorate. 12 February 1995. NLAI, 293_009705_114.
38. Khuzistan Governorate. 29 December 1994. NLAI, 293_009705_141.
39. Khuzistan Governorate. 23 February 1995. NLAI, 294_009705_69.
40. Fihrist-i Maqalat dar Matbu‘at-i Inqilab-e Islami-e Iran [Collection of Articles from the Islamic Revolutionary
of Iran’s Press], vol. 2 (Tehran: Entesharat-e Sehami, 1983), p.95; Reh Avard (Los Angeles: Nashrie-ye Anjoman-e
Doostdaran-e Farhang-e Farsi, 1997), p.145.
41. Mayor of the City of Dizful. 5 August 1985. NLAI, 293_002937_83.
42. The District of Shush Danial. 3 July 1985. NLAI, 293_002937_98.
43. The Foundation for Immigrant Affairs of the Imposed War – Khuzistan. 15 June 1985. NLAI, 293_002937_100,
102.
44. The Foundation for Immigrant Affairs of the Imposed War – Khuzistan. 15 December 1985. NLAI,
293_002937_31.
45. The Foundation for Immigrant Affairs of the Imposed War – Shush. 6 January 1986. NLAI, 293_002937_19.
46. The Foundation for Immigrant Affairs of the Imposed War – Khuzistan. 11 September 1985. NLAI, 293_002937_
64.
47. Iran: Country Report, No.1 (London: The Economist Intelligence Unit, 1990), p.14.
48. The Foundation for Immigrant Affairs of the Imposed War – Khuzistan. 25 November 1985. NLAI,
293_002937_35.
49. The Foundation for Immigrant Affairs of the Imposed War – Khuzistan. 3 November 1985. NLAI,
293_002937_36.
50. Khuzistan Governorate. 20 July 1994. INA, 293_009705_75; Municipality of Bostan. 14 November 1994.
NLAI, 293_009705_45.
51. The Headquarters for the Reconstruction and Renovation of the War-torn Regions of the Country. 22
October,1994. NLAI, 293_009705_73.
52. The Headquarters for the Reconstruction and Renovation of the War-torn Regions of the Country. 18
January 1994. NLAI, 293_009705_149.
53. Migrant’s letter. 29 September 1994. NLAI, 293_009705_205-11.
54. Mayor of the City of Dizful. 15 February 1995. NLAI, 293_009705_99.
55. Khuzistan Governorate. 20 July 1994. NLAI, 293_009705_75.
56. Bijan Zare’, Jami‘eh Shinasi-i Jang-i Tahmili: Jami’eh Shinakhti-i Sazigari-i Mohajiran dar Maqsad [A Sociology
of the Imposed War, Learning about the Society Built by Migrants in their Destination] (Tehran: Jihad
Danishgahi, 2012), p.75.
57. As described in one rather alarmist piece, inspired by a speech given by then mayor of Tehran, Ittilaʿat,
‘Tarh-i Jilogiri az Mohajirat beh Tihran’ [Plans to Prevent Migrants to Tehran], 17 April 1981, p.2.
58. Zare’, Jami‘eh Shinasi-i Jang-i Tahmili, p.15.
59. Iran dar Aiineh [Iran in the Mirror] (Tehran: Markaz-i Amar-i Iran, 1989), p.16.
60. ‘Ali Purtai, Iranian-i Baz Gasht Az ‘Araq [Returned Iranians from Iraq] (Tehran: University of Tehran Press,
1971), pp.20-21.
61. Foundation for Immigrant Affairs of the Imposed War – Shush. 18 January 1986. NLAI, 293_002937_26.
62. Municipality of Bandar Imam Khomeini. 6 March,1995. INA, 293_009705_63.
63. Zare’, Jame’eh Shenasi, p.176.
64. Iran dar Aiineh (Tehran: Markaz-i Amar-i Iran, 1989), p.16.
65. Zare’, Jame’eh Shenasi, p.22.
66. Ibid., p.176.
 Middle Eastern Studies 15

67. Purtai, Iranian-i Baz Gasht Az ‘Araq, pp.20-21.

68. Zare’, Jame’eh Shenasi, p.23.
69. Ibid., p.22.
70. Ibid., p.176.
71. Ibid., p.176.
72. The Headquarters for the Reconstruction and Renovation of the War-torn Regions of the Country. 5 February
1995. NLAI, 293_009705_157-9.
73. Mihdi Ansari, Mohammad Dorudian, and Hadi Nakhi, Khorramshahr: Dar Jang-i Tulani [Khorramshahr: In
the Long War] (Tehran: Markaz-i Asnad va Tahqiqat-i Difa‘i Moqaddas, 2011), p.47.
74. Khoury, Iraq in Wartime, p.141.
75. Of course, there is a great deal of research on Afghan immigration; after all, the largest immigrant com-
munity in Iran is comprised of Afghans. These are most Hazara, the Shiʿis of Afghanistan, an ethnic minori-
ty in their native country. These studies come from a variety of disciplines, especially anthropology (for
instance, see Fariba Adelkhah and Zuzanna Olszewska, ‘The Iranian Afghans’, Iranian Studies, 40, no. 2 (April
2007), pp.137-65) and economists (see Maliha Safri, ‘The Transformation of the Afghan Refugee: 1979-2009’,
Middle East Journal, 65, no. 4 (Autumn 2011), pp.587-601, among others). The experience of the Afghan
refugee has also been highlighted in cinema, as illustrated in cultural studies works like Mahyar Entezari’s
dissertation, The Other Self: Images of Afghans in Iranian Cinema (University of Texas at Austin, 2015).
76. Ittilaʿat, ‘Istifadeh az Tafakor va Khalaqiat-i Mohajiran-i Manatiq-i Jangi dar Sanaii’ Kuchik-i Isfahan’, 20 May 1981, p.4.
77. Khuzistan Governorate. 14 November 1988. NLAI, 293_017720_38-40.
78. Islamic Republic of Iran’s Red Crescent Society – Abadan. Undated, 1991. NLAI, 293_016287_26.
79. Mayor of Abadan. Undated. NLAI, 293_016287_171.
80. Farid Ghassemlou, ‘Jami‘at-i Hilal-i Ahmar-i Iran’ [Red Crescent Society of Iran], Encyclopedia Iranica, online
edition, 2016, available at http://www.iranicaonline.org/articles/jamiyat-ehelal-e-ahmar.
81. Undated. NLAI, 293_016287_23.
82. Khuzistan Governorate. 27 July 1991. NLAI, 293_016287_82.
83. Khuzistan Governorate. 21 July 1991. NLAI, 293_016287_72.
84. Islamic Republic of Iran’s Red Crescent Society – Abadan. Undated, 1991. NLAI, 293_016287_26.
85. Khuzistan Governorate. 9 May 1991. NLAI, 293_016287_123.
86. Khuzistan Governorate. 9 May 1991. 293_016287_123.
87. Lawyers Committee for Human Rights, Asylum Under Attack: A Report on the Protection of Iraqi Refugees and
Displaced Persons One Year after the Humanitarian Energy in Iraq (Ann Arbor: University of Michigan, 1992),
p.42.
88. Mayor Abadan. 28 August 1991. NLAI, 293_016287_57.
89. The Supreme Assembly of the Islamic Revolution of Iraq: Social Services Unit. 30 March 1993. NLAI,
293_010058_23-24.
90. Mayor of Abadan. 10 June 1991. NLAI, 293_016287_139.
91. Khuzistan Governorate. 16 September 1993. NLAI, 293_010058_146.
92. Eric Goldstein and Andrew Whitley, Endless Torment: The 1991 Uprising in Iraq and Its Aftermath (New York:
Human Rights Watch, 1993).
93. Khuzistan Governorate. 22 June 1991. NLAI, 293_016287_89.
94. Khuzistan Governorate. 9 May 1991. NLAI, 293_016287_123.
95. Lawyers Committee for Human Rights, Asylum Under Attack, p.42.
96. Mayoral Office. 11 June 1991. NLAI, 293_016287_105.
97. Khuzistan Governorate. 9 February 1994. NLAI, 293_010058_19.
98. Ministry of the Interior. 30 December 1993. NLAI, 293_010058_21.
99. Dina Khoury, Iraq in Wartime: Soldiering, Martyrdom, and Remembrance (Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press, 2013), p.250.
00.
1 Khuzistan Governorate. 24 June 1994. NLAI, 293_016287_94.
101. Ministry of the Interior: General Registry Office of Khuzistan Province. 2 August,1993. NLAI, 293_010058_176.
102. Foundation for Martyrs – Abadan. 26 October 1991. NLAI, 293_016287_19.
103. The Ayatollah’s New Health Charity of Dizful. 22 March 1994. NLAI, 293_010058_169.
104. Khuzistan Governorate. 14 August 1993. NLAI, 293_010058_179.
105. General Directorate of Foreign Citizens and Immigrants. 7 June 1993. NLAI, 293_010058_205.
106. Report from the Social Management of the World Assembly of Ahl al-Bayt. Undated. NLAI, 293_010058_84.
107. Khuzistan Governorate. 14 August 1993. NLAI, 293_010058_179.
108. Report from the Social Management of the World Assembly of Ahl al-Bayt. Undated. NLAI, 293_010058_80.
109. Reza Jahan-far and Mohsen Moradyan, ‘Barrisi-e Asar Eghtesadi-Ejtema’yee-e Jang-e Tahmili-e ‘Araq Bar
Ravand-i Mohājirat dar Ostan-i Khuzistan’ [Examination of the Socioeconomic Effects of Iraq’s Imposed War
on the Processes of Immigration in the Province of Khuzistan], Faslnameh Iqtisad-i Jang 2, vol. 5 (Spring
2017), p.16.
16 S. AHMADI

110. ‘Ostandar-i Khuzistan: Mohajirat-i 200 Hizar Nafar az Ostan dar 5 Sal-i Gozashteh’ [Governor of Khuzistan:
The Migration of 200,000 People from the Province in the Last Five Years], Eghtesad Boomi. Last modified
2 July 2017. https://eghtesadboominews.ir/12699.
11.
1 Report from the Social Management of the World Assembly of Ahl al-Bayt. Undated. NLAI, 293_010058_80.
112. Peter Galbraith, ‘Refugees from War in Iraq: What Happened in 1991 and What May Happen in 2003’,
Migration Policy Institute, 2 (February 2003), p.3.
113. Khuzistan Governorate. 14 August 1993. NLAI, 293_010058_179.