At the onset of the Islamic revolution, Karaj had a humble population of just under 200,000. By the end of the Iran-Iraq War, that population had nearly quadrupled to 800,000. As one of the most welcoming cities for immigrants today, Karaj is also known as "Little Iran." According to 2024 data, Iran itself is home to more refugees than any other country (3.5 million). In addition to attracting immigrants from outside Iran, Karaj has also become a destination for residents relocating from Tehran and other urban areas within Iran. Alongside the rest of the country, Karaj has also experienced significant population growth (tied in part to the Islamic Revolution's legal and social emphasis on family, and Ayatollah Khomeini's call for "an army of 20 million"). 

The Revolution Seems to Miss One Iran Town 

KARAJ, Iran, Dec. 27, 1979 — There are few revolutionary posters on the aging buildings of this small bustling town on the sides of a range of the Elburz Mountains.

There are very few grafitti hailing the downfall of Shah Mohammed Riza Pahlevi, as there are across the face of Teheran, about 30 miles from here. It is possible to walk the half mile of Kazvin Street, the busiest thoroughfare in Karaj, and not come across a revolutionary guard with an automatic rifle in his hands. It is even possible to see shops that do not display pictures of Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini.

In this community of about 100,000, it is not an unfamiliar sight to see helmeted men at work on a housing project or building a road. Karaj projects the image of a resolutely hard‐working town. Its Paykan and Renault automobile factories are not idle, its refrigerator enterprises spew smoke into the crisp mountain air, its grocers and butchers haggle over prices.

“We live in the shadow of Teheran, yet our life has not been disrupted much,” Ali Ameeri, a butcher, said today in between carving a leg of lamb for a customer who was flushed with modest triumph at having persuaded the 25‐year‐old shopowner to lower the price.

Bit Baffling to Visitors

“Why should our life be disrupted?” asked the customer, Nadia Zadeh. “Hasn't Ayatollah Khomeini said that the best way to continue our revolution is to keep working?”

A visitor to Karaj may be a bit baffled by the industry and seeming nonchalance here. Why is there no revolutionary activity, as there is in so many other communities, especially those around Teheran? And why is there a seeming lack of preoccupation with such matters as the seizure of the United States Embassy?

“Why are you surprised?” asked Sayed Akbar Ibrahimi, who runs a food‐supply store on Kazvin Street. “What did you expect? Do you think that we Iranians have nothing to do but run down the street shouting slogans? Don't you think we are concerned with earning our livelihood?”

When Hassan Aghili, a municipal clerk, was asked why there were apparently so few marches here by revolutionary students or others, he said: “Why should they march here? Teheran after all is only 30 miles away. They will be better heard there. That is the place that needs to be reminded of revolutionary messages, not us here in Karaj.”

Minding Its Own Business

Local officials shrug and smile and say how determined the local people are that life will go on here. The local chief priest insists that Karaj is a prime example of the religious and revolutionary spirit of Islamic Iran at work.

Jamal Ibrahimi, Sayed Akbar's 17year‐old son, says that Karaj, however unusual in Iran these days, is determined to mind its own business and concentrate on its own particular problems.

“Look, I think most of us sympathize with the students who have taken over that American Embassy because we believe that those diplomats were spies. I fully support the students. But we see our role in the revolution as staying in our shops and serving the people.”

All this is not to suggest that Karaj is a place without problems. A mile away from Kazvin Street the slums of Zurzadeh loom over the town.

Electricity Comes to Slums

One of the shacks in this slum belongs to Sakeeney Rojoi and her husband, Mohsen. Until February, when the Shah was replaced by Ayatollah's Khomeini's Islamic regime, there was no electricity and no running water in the Rojoi home. There is still no running water but the family has electricity now, and a television antenna is fixed to the tiled roof of their two‐room dwelling.

“My husband works during the day in the Renault factory,” Mrs. Rojoi said, “and at night he has to work a second job selling shirts on Kazvin Street — it has become so expensive these days that this is necessary so that we and our five children can eat.” She is a beautiful woman in her late 20's, and as she talks she gently slaps her year‐old son, who is tugging at her chador, the traditional head‐to‐toe covering worn by Iranian women.

“We have a long way to go in Iran,” added Iraniaye Shahryari, a neighbor of the Rojoi family. “But at least most of us in Karaj have jobs, even though we are forced to live In houses like these. Ayatollah Khomeini should not forget us. So far we have been able to do things on our own, but we are going to need help from our national Government.”

When people like Mrs. Shahryari talk about help from the Government, they mean better housing, transportation and employment opportunities. But the people here leave the impression that few really expect assistance soon.

The New York Times