Nournews: The statements made by some eulogists, preachers, and public speakers during recent mourning gatherings commemorating Imam Hussein (peace be upon him), the Master of Martyrs, have troubled public conscience by misusing religious platforms. According to reports, a eulogist recently launched a harsh attack on the President during a mourning ceremony and threatened Masoud Pezeshkian using the disturbing expression “blade and throat.” Although he later attempted to justify his remarks, the bitterness of those reckless statements is such that every person with access to a public platform should carefully reflect on how Muharram’s pulpit can be protected from becoming a vehicle for hatred and discord.
Muharram is one of the country's most significant cultural and social occasions. At few other times of the year can one witness such a vast network of human interaction, where millions of people gather around a shared narrative, a common historical memory, and a collective spiritual heritage. Mosques, hussaineyeh, religious associations, traditional mourning venues, and even streets become spaces for participation, mourning, dialogue, storytelling, education, and the transmission of values. For this reason, Muharram is not merely a season of mourning; it is also a season in which public opinion is shaped.
In this context, the pulpit, the platform, and the mourning assembly acquire exceptional significance. Speakers, preachers, orators, eulogists, and reciters of the teachings of the Prophet’s Household find themselves addressing large audiences who, perhaps at no other time of the year, listen with such concentration, trust, and spiritual readiness. This trust is a tremendous asset. Yet every great asset carries a great responsibility. The fundamental question is: what purpose will this immense social and spiritual capital serve? Is the Muharram pulpit meant to be a source of awareness, ethics, empathy, and understanding, or is it to become a tool for producing hatred, suspicion, division, superstition, social fragmentation, and polarization?
History has shown that religious platforms have at times been among the greatest forces for social cohesion, while at other times, due to extremism, prejudice, or political exploitation, they have become arenas that deepen social and religious divisions. There have been occasions when, instead of serving as a voice for justice, rationality, and human dignity, the pulpit has become dominated by slander, destruction, humiliation, and hostile boundary-making. The result of such circumstances has been nothing but the erosion of social capital and a departure from the true spirit of Ashura.
Today, more than ever, there is a need to return to the authentic mission of the pulpit. Iran has endured difficult times. Experiences of war, external threats, and various pressures have once again demonstrated that the nation's greatest asset is not merely military or economic strength, but national solidarity and the people's shared sense of belonging to Iran. In such circumstances, any statement that fuels division, any remark that pits one group of citizens against another, and any action that intensifies political, religious, ethnic, or social cleavages runs contrary not only to national interests but also to the very philosophy of Imam Hussain’s uprising.

The Muharram pulpit should not become a battleground for factional score-settling. It should not be transformed into an instrument for labeling citizens, eliminating rivals, humiliating critics, or dividing society into “insiders” and “outsiders.” Ashura belongs to all Iranians devoted to their homeland and to all who cherish spirituality and freedom; it is not the exclusive property of any political faction or movement.

There is another danger that must also be avoided: the exploitation of people's religious emotions. Muharram is indeed a month of deep emotion, but the primary mission of the preacher and eulogist is not merely to arouse feelings; it is to guide those emotions toward awareness and understanding. The pulpit and public platform can—and should—serve as places where social hope is rebuilt, where people learn not only to mourn but also to practice tolerance, fairness, responsibility, honesty, trustworthiness, forgiveness, respect for the rights of others, and compassion toward their fellow citizens.

Today, Iran needs pulpits and platforms that generate social capital rather than manufacture internal enemies; that foster trust rather than spread suspicion; that promote kindness rather than hatred; that uphold human dignity rather than humiliation; and that emphasize common ground rather than deepen polarization. If Ashura is a school of reform, then the first reform must begin with language and discourse. The language of the pulpit, the preacher, and the eulogist should be the language of dignity rather than insult; truth rather than exaggeration; reason rather than superstition; love rather than resentment; inclusion rather than exclusion; and unity rather than division.

The Hussaini pulpit is not merely a platform; it is a historical trust that has carried the confidence of the people through the centuries and has safeguarded the faith and understanding of Iranians. Whenever this platform is reduced to a tool for political rivalry, factional disputes, superstition, or the manipulation of emotions without knowledge, it harms not only its audience but also the Ashura tradition itself.

The Hussaini pulpit truly reflects the spirit of Ashura when people leave a mourning gathering not only more sorrowful, but also more informed; not only more tearful, but also more ethical and more responsible toward humanity, society, and one another’s destiny. This is the understanding of Muharram that many leading contemporary reformers and thinkers—Imam Khomeini, Imam Musa al-Sadr, Martyr Morteza Motahhari, Dr. Ali Shariati, Martyr Mohammad Beheshti, Ayatollah Mahmoud Taleghani, Mehdi Bazargan, and Ayatollah Ali Khamenei—each in their own language and style, have defended: an understanding that sees Ashura as a school of awareness, freedom, ethics, and unity, rather than an arena for division, fanaticism, and the exploitation of people’s emotions.