By Jafar Sherdoost
Every night, Leila is jolted awake by a familiar sound; a noise that resembles neither the wail of the wind nor the rumble of thunder. It is the sound of wheezing from her father’s chest. Kak Rahman was on his way home in Sardasht, northwest Iran, on June 28, 1987, when Saddam Hussein’s bombers unloaded their cargo. He smelled something strange: a mixture of stale garlic and rotting vegetables. He did not know then that this scent was the smell of death, packaged with European technology.
Today, 38 years later, Rahman’s lungs resemble a piece of crumpled, burnt paper. His respiratory tissues are so decimated that every inhalation and exhalation is a gladiatorial battle for survival. The oxygen tank beside his bed is the only umbilical cord connecting him to this world.
For years, we have heard about globalization and the interconnectivity of nations in the global village. Yet, when one juxtaposes the sound of Kak Rahman’s coughing in the foothills of Sardasht with the heavy silence in the government buildings of Germany, it becomes clear that globalization has occurred mostly in the realm of economics, not in the realms of “justice” and “accountability.”
On Sunday, November 22, 2025, Iranian Foreign Ministry Spokesperson Esmaeil Baghaei once again took to the podium in Tehran, attempting to translate those coughs into the language of diplomacy. With a tone laced with suppressed anger, he declared: “Our demand from Germany remains in full force.” It was a short sentence, but one carrying a heavy legal and moral burden.
Simultaneously, Iranian Foreign Minister Abbas Araghchi, currently in Europe, stated on the sidelines of the OPCW conference in The Hague: “Western countries must be held accountable for supplying chemical weapons. We will pursue the rights of chemical weapons victims.”
The story is simple, yet it has been lost in the labyrinth of European bureaucracy and Western expediency. We know – and the Germans themselves have admitted in confidential and semi-confidential documents – that in the 1980s, German companies sold the chemical precursors and technology necessary to manufacture the very gas that burned Kak Rahman’s lungs to Saddam’s regime. A former German ambassador once confirmed in a letter that a number of these companies had provided these lethal items to the dictator of Baghdad in a “rogue” capacity.
Berlin claims that in the 1990s – after the damage was irrevocably done – it opened files in its judicial courts and issued verdicts. Iran, more than a year and a half ago (September 2023), and again via an official diplomatic note in July of this year (2025), formally wrote to the German Embassy in Tehran. The content of the note was straightforward: If you held a trial, reveal the documents. If justice was served, why was it done in secret? Hand over the results of the proceedings so that the families of the victims know who armed their loved ones’ murderers.
Berlin’s response? The sound which can never be heard in Kak Rahman’s room: absolute silence.
As an Iranian looking West from Tehran, I call this situation the “Supply Chain of Hypocrisy.” Last week, I was in a taxi in Tehran, and the driver – a middle-aged man – remarked when he saw a German car in the street: “Germans build the best cars in the world. Their engineering is flawless.”
On Sunday, I recalled his words and thought to myself: It seems the Germans were just as precise in the engineering of death. Mercedes-Benz for the roads; Mustard Gas for the lungs.
How is it possible that a country which today positions itself as the standard-bearer of human rights and environmentalism cannot face its own not-so-distant past? Baghaei has called this concealment and Germany’s role a “stain of shame” on the history of relations between the two countries. Ali Bagheri Kani, the former acting Foreign Minister, previously stated, “We have not forgotten.” These words reflect the collective memory of a nation that still feels the sting of blisters on its skin.
The fundamental problem is this: The West, and Germany in particular, likes to divide the world into two categories: their own “Garden of Law” and the “Lawless Jungle” outside. But when it comes to the chemical weapons file, we see that the gardeners of this garden exported the poison to the outside world themselves.
Germany cannot expect Iran to take its human rights claims in 2025 seriously while Berlin refuses to clarify the crimes of its corporations in 1987. Esmaeil Baghaei rightly pointed out: “If you are sincere in your claims about human rights and justice, agree to the formation of a fact-finding mechanism.”
Is Germany worried that releasing these documents will implicate powerful “individuals and entities” who are still active in the country’s industrial and political structure? was the “rogue” nature of these companies merely a cover for the state policies of that time? Will revealing the details expose new dimensions of that crime? The failure to respond to Iran’s official request for a truth-discovery mechanism only strengthens these suspicions.
The files of Sardasht, Halabja, and thousands of chemically injured Iranians are not subject to a statute of limitations. Why? Because war crimes have no expiration date. Because the victims are still alive and wake up in pain every day.
Right now, Leila is sitting by her father’s bed, adjusting the flow of the oxygen tank so he can sleep for a few more minutes. At this very moment, Iran’s official diplomatic note is gathering dust on the desk of the German Ambassador in Tehran or in the Foreign Ministry in Berlin.
The Germans might be able to leave diplomatic letters unanswered, or make fiery speeches about human rights at conferences in Geneva and New York, but they cannot erase history. Until that fact-finding mechanism is formed and the documents of those alleged trials are published, every time a German diplomat uses words like “justice,” “transparency,” and “humanity,” Iranian ears will hear the sound of coughing, not the voice of truth.
Kak Rahman’s lungs, and those of thousands like him, have no time left for diplomatic games and bureaucratic concealment. If Germany wants to fade the stain of its collaboration with Saddam, the way is not silence; the way is to open the archives and look the victims in the eye.
Truth is like a boomerang; if you throw it into the darkness, it will return to hit you with even greater force. Iran is still waiting.
The views expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the positions of Iran Nuances.
