Ebrahim Raisi was obsessed with the security of the people

As the helicopter rose through the misting clouds, Ebrahim Raisi stared sombrely out of the window. The view, of the rugged mountains of north-west Iran, should have been magnificent. Today, there was not so much to see. And in any case he was not given to smiling. It did not suit the black turban he wore, a token of his descent from the Prophet, or his usual black clerical robes, or his thin glasses. He preferred to appear as what he was, an unbending expert on sharia law, for whom chopping off the hands of thieves was “one of our greatest honours”.