TEHRAN – During the 12 days of Israeli and United States attacks on Iran in June, numerous events profoundly impacted the Iranian public, eliciting feelings of shock, sorrow, and fear. The targeting of residential areas, the bombing of Iran's national television headquarters, the strike on a prison, and the horrific scenes from Tehran’s Tajrish Square, where Israeli missiles sent cars and pedestrians hurtling into the air, were among the incidents that deeply moved the Iranian people.

For Iranian journalists, particularly those in Tehran, all of it was equally horrifying. Each day, we navigated the city that held everything for us, struggling to reconcile its familiar reality with the fact that it was under attack. During those twelve days, I remember deliberately avoiding dwelling too long on any single incident or news item; my focus had to remain on reporting what was unfolding. I told myself that grief, curiosity, and even pride would have their place later, after the war's end. One image, one I resolved to contemplate more deeply afterward, was an old photograph I encountered for the first time during the aggression: a top military commander, missing a leg, with his other, apparently injured, leg resting on a coffee table. The years-old photo belonged to Brigadier General Mohammad Hassan Mohaghegh, the deputy head of the Intelligence Organization of the Islamic Revolution Guard Corps (IRGC). It widely appeared on news websites on June 16, 2025, one day after Israel assassinated the commander. 

Mohaghegh was among the lesser-known commanders targeted by Israel during the twelve-day war. This month, I finally managed to connect with some of his family members and friends. The first person I spoke to was Esmaeil Kowsari, an Iranian lawmaker who had been Mohaghegh's comrade during Iraq's invasion of Iran in the 1980s and later became his brother-in-law.

“I don’t’ think I have ever seen someone work as hard as Hassan did,” Kowasri said. “Hassan was physically weaker than most people, but he worked harder than everyone around him.”

Mohaghegh's life was shaped by struggle from a very young age. Born in Tehran in 1963, he grew up in the shadow of his father, a prominent cleric in Rafsanjan who was deeply involved in the political upheaval against the Shah. As the eldest son, Hassan naturally followed in his father's footsteps, his teenage years consumed not by schoolyard concerns, but by the dangerous world of political activism. This path led him straight into the crosshairs of the Shah's secret police, SAVAK, who arrested him in the tumultuous months leading up to the 1979 Revolution. The details of his imprisonment are mostly lost to history.

With Saddam Hussein’s invasion of Iran, he joined Iranian soldiers at the war fronts in his late teens.  A few years into the 8-year war, he became the commander of the Habib Ibn Mazahir Battalion, part of the prestigious 27th Mohammad Rasulullah Division. The unit was known for its intellectual and religious makeup. 
“Hassan was badly injured during one of Iran’s important operations in 1986. When I saw his body, he was missing one leg, and the rest of his body was covered in blood. We assumed he had lost his life, so placed his body among the martyrs, and sent him to a field hospital in Ahwaz,” Kowsari explained. 

It was only by chance that comrades, checking one last time, detected Mohaghegh’s faint pulse. He even experienced one cardiac arrest while in the hospital in Ahwaz, but ended up surviving his injuries miraculously. 

After the war, Kowsari introduced Mohaghegh to his sister, a 23-year-old recent graduate working as a teacher. She told me she hadn't been seriously considering marriage when they met. "I had just started working and wanted to focus on building my career. My previous encounters with suitors weren't really significant. I was planning to stay single, at least for a few years," she said.

However, the young woman felt something stir within her when she first saw Mohaghegh. "We were a religious and traditional family, so our first meeting was a formal introduction at our home with his family. My brother had told me in advance that Haj Hassan had lost a leg during the war and had also been injured elsewhere. But when I met him, he ascended the stairs swiftly, as if there was nothing wrong with his legs. When we were sent to speak privately, I saw no sign of weakness in him. He was strong, determined, and kind as he described the qualities he hoped his future wife would possess," she explained.

The young couple instantly developed an affinity for each other. "I don't know how to describe the feeling we experienced. Haj Hassan later told me that he, too, knew I would be his wife the moment he saw me."

In the years following the war, Mohaghegh divided his time between military service and academia. He earned two PhDs, eventually becoming a top IRGC commander, and had three children with his wife. Throughout those four decades, he continued to grapple with the injuries he had sustained during the Iran-Iraq war. "He had surgery numerous times in the following years," his wife recalled. "But even when he was in deep and excruciating pain, he did not complain. He did his best to recover quickly and attend to his military and fatherly duties. He believed he had duties that he needed to fulfill, no matter how much pain he was in."

When Israel assassinated Mohaghegh, his only daughter struggled the most with his loss. "She was closest to her father. I have two sons as well, but they always say the bond between a father and a daughter is very strong. This was certainly the case in our household."

A few days after Mohaghegh's martyrdom, the daughter told her mother that she believed her father was helping her cope with sorrow. "After some very difficult days, my daughter started to improve. She told me she was feeding milk to her infant when she felt her father's presence in the room. His presence made her feel much better."

From the day a young Mohaghegh was injured during the Iran-Iraq war to the day he was assassinated by Israel decades later, much had transpired. "He, however, remained unchanged. In his 60s, he was still the same determined young man I had seen at our first meeting. His ultimate goal was to serve his country and God, and he did exactly that," his wife said.