Iran’s Shoddy ‘Satellite Cities’ Test Citizens’ Patience
Thanks to high rent prices and overpopulation, thousands of Iranians have been forced out of their hometowns. But the “satellite cities” built to hold them leave much to be desired.
In the 1980s, Iran intentionally tried to grow its own population, aiming to increase its military strength amid the Iran-Iraq war. The 1979 Islamic Revolution had seen Iran’s old monarchy overthrown and a new republic built on Shiite Islam take shape. Student groups and leftist organizations rejoiced at the new rights promised to women; Islamist groups lauded the fact that their country was now a theocracy. But the new government wanted to ensure that the ideas of the revolution would last beyond one generation. So it encouraged polygamy, made birth control nearly impossible to find and lowered the age of marriage to 9 for girls and 15 for boys.
The plan worked—Iran’s population grew enormously. Forty years after the revolution, there are almost 50 million more people living in Iran. But these newcomers are not a new generation of happy, loyal citizens. They are people who the nation was not built to hold.
Overpopulation was not something Iran was completely unprepared for. Soon after the revolution, 17 new “satellite cities” were planned on the outskirts of the country's major cities. They had names like Pardis (“paradise” in Persian) and Parand ("silk"). They were to provide affordable places to live for people that the larger cities could not hold. But as Iran struggled with unrest and war, these cities wouldn’t begin to be built for decades. They remain half-finished even today.
In 2007, the Iranian government developed a scheme it hoped would solve the overpopulation problem and make the satellite cities more livable: contract out free land to real estate developers who were willing to build low-income housing units. In this way around 2 million homes were planned to be built throughout Iran. But the Mehr housing project, as it was called, failed to deliver in the cities that needed housing the most. The 400,000 units built were poorly constructed and lacked essential utilities, like plumbing and clean water. The sterile white color that all the high-rises were painted with in Pardis says it all. These buildings didn’t seem like they were meant to be lived in, only passed through.
But the satellite cities are indeed lived in. In recent years, the overpopulation that plagues Iran’s largest cities has only gotten worse. The Financial Times reported in 2017 that the population of Tehran, Iran’s capital and largest city, “exceeds the optimum level by more than 70%.” The air is full of pollution, and the city’s roads are packed with traffic. But the last straw for many Tehranis is the cost of housing, which according to the New Yorker has more than doubled in the last three years. U.S. sanctions have contributed to this, as did former President Donald Trump’s decision to withdraw from the Iran nuclear deal. With nowhere else to go, droves of Iranians have moved to the satellite cities, where houses are cheaper. In 2019, the population of Parand was 100,000; a year later, that number had doubled.
The unfinished cities have been unable to provide jobs for their populations. Most of the people who make up Pardis must commute each day to work in Tehran. And, as the city lacks most forms of public transport, this means driving—sometimes up to three hours each way. The cities lack recreational areas, stores and the capabilities to provide health care and schooling to their growing populations. It’s no surprise that drug abuse and suicides are common in the cities.
Real estate prices remain high in congested Tehran, and more and more people are expected to leave. The people who make up these satellite cities, despite the lack of basic amenities, are grateful that they have a place to go at all. The Mehr housing project is not finished, and it is possible that in five years the livability of Tehran’s satellite cities will improve. But it is up to the Iranian government to ensure that these improvements do happen, and soon. The well-being of many Iranians depends on it.
Finn grew up in New York City and is now a first-year at the University of Chicago. In addition to writing for Catalyst, he serves as a reporter for the Chicago Maroon. He spends his free time watching soccer and petting his cat.