Protests in Iran: “The main revolutionary force are the people in the streets”

Vahid Mirzaei

My name is Vahid Mirzaei. I am an Iranian photojournalist, journalist, and artist. I began my professional career in Iran in 2014.

In 2019, I was arrested by the Islamic Republic’s security forces and imprisoned for 23 days in Tehran’s Great Prison (Fashafuyeh). Following the killing of Jina (Mahsa) Amini in 2022 and during the “Woman, Life, Freedom” movement, I was forced to leave Iran due to escalating threats from security forces and the IRJCThe Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps is a primary branch of the Iranian Armed Forces with the constitutional mandate to ensure the integrity of the Islamic Republic.. I am currently living in exile.

— Having fled Iran, how does your role as a journalist/activist change from outside? What can you do now that you couldn't before, and what vital perspective or access have you lost? How do you maintain credible, real-time connections with sources on the ground?

— Since leaving Iran, my role as a photojournalist and journalist has both expanded and become more limited. While I still haven’t reached a completely safe distance and remain very close to the reach of the Islamic Republic, I am now able to write more freely, name names, expose truths, and work on topics that were absolute red lines inside Iran without an immediate threat of arrest. I can speak with international media, build networks, and bring the voices of people inside Iran to the global stage. This is something that was practically impossible before.

At the same time, I have lost access to some critical things—most importantly, direct contact with people. I am no longer in the heart of society. I don’t hear the voices of people on buses, in bread lines, or at workplaces, and I can’t feel the immediate atmosphere of the city. I believe this geographical distance is a significant weakness for a journalist because it introduces analytical risk. My personal experience in Iran has shown me that reality there is highly fluid and often fragmented. Observing from afar can easily lead to oversimplification. For this reason, live connections with field sources are extremely important and vital.

To maintain these connections, I rely on a network of trusted sources that has developed over recent years. These connections are multi-layered and decentralized so that if one channel is cut off, others remain. However, with the current internet blackout, my work is at its most constrained. All the challenges I just mentioned become exponentially harder, and information reaches me very slowly and intermittently.

Journalism about Iran, especially in exile under these conditions, is increasingly like working in a war zone. Access is much harder, but the responsibilities are far heavier, because we are committed to being the voice for those who cannot speak out themselves.

— These protests began with shopkeepers in Tehran's Grand Bazaar on December 28, 2025. Why did this traditionally conservative merchant class finally snap? What does their participation signal?

— The December 2025 protests in Iran can be considered the most distinctive, and perhaps the largest, in the 47 years of the Islamic Republic’s rule. What makes these protests unique is that they began in the bazaar. Traditionally, the bazaar is the last place to take to the streets and protest, and this point is key to understanding the current movement. Merchants and traders generally avoid direct confrontation with the government as long as they can somehow cope with the country’s economic and currency conditions or maintain a minimum level of economic stability.

Their participation on December 28, 2025 shows that the crisis has moved beyond the stage of “chronic dissatisfaction” and entered a phase of “the collapse of the possibility of survival.” This is particularly significant because many veteran bazaaris, in order to protect their interests and profits, have either maintained direct relations with the government or have even become part of the governing system itself.

But this time everything was different. Runaway inflation, the unprecedented rise in foreign exchange rates, the collapse of supply chains, the sharp decline in people’s purchasing power, and the complete instability in economic decision-making by those in power have pushed even this usually compromise-oriented class to a point where it feels it has nothing left to lose, leading them to ignite the protests.

The Islamic Republic had already lost much of its legitimacy among the public in previous protests and, apart from a small group dependent on the regime, no longer possessed a real social base. The bazaar may have been the only remaining social group in which some degree of attachment to the regime could still be observed, but this social base has now collapsed as well.

This means that the protests are neither temporary nor merely emotional; rather, they signal that the crisis has reached the core of the Islamic Republic’s long-standing foundations of stability.

— How do the 2026 protests specifically connect to the “Woman, Life, Freedom”The movement was ignited by the death of a Kurdish woman, Jina (Mahsa) Amini, and is fundamentally about bodily autonomy. movement that began in 2022? How do you see the intersection of gender oppression with ethnic and class oppression in the current struggle?

— The 2026 protests cannot be fully understood in isolation from the “Woman, Life, Freedom” movement, because in essence, the current protests are a continuation of the same rupture between the state and society, but at a more mature, broader, and more powerful stage. The 2022 movement began with the issue of bodily autonomy, but it quickly evolved into a deeper question about the state’s ownership over citizens’ lives.

What we are witnessing today is the expansion of that same logic: the control that was first imposed on women’s bodies is now being imposed more openly on people’s livelihoods, lives, ethnic identities, and their very possibility of living with dignity across society as a whole. The death of Jina (Mahsa) Amini was not merely a spark; it was the moment when different layers of oppression became connected, and this connection has now turned into a stronger collective awareness in the ongoing protests.

In the current movement, women remain present and continue to play a leading role, but alongside them stand workers, bazaar merchants, ethnic minorities, and the lower social classes. This overlap shows that the issue is no longer only “women’s rights” or “ethnic discrimination” in isolation, but a structure of power that simultaneously targets women’s bodies, marginalized ethnic groups, and the economic and physical security of society at large. It is precisely this interconnection that gives today’s protests their depth and durability, and that distinguishes them from previous waves of unrest.

— How has the movement fostered solidarity across ethnic lines (Persian, Kurdish, Baluch, Azeri, etc.) in the face of a regime that tries to divide them?

— One of the most important achievements of this movement is precisely the defeat of the long-standing “ethnic division” project in which the Islamic Republic has invested for years. As is well known, Iran is composed of diverse ethnic groups: Kurds, Lors, Baluchis, Turks, Laks, Arabs, Gilaks, Persians, and others. For decades, the regime has consistently tried to reduce protests to local, ethnic, or security issues, or, as in the current protests and those of recent years, to portray them as the result of foreign infiltration by countries such as the United States and Israel, labeling protesters as terrorists in order to prevent the movement from becoming a nationwide demand, despite the fact that those in the streets are largely young citizens of the country who have been driven to protest by unbearable conditions.

In doing so, the government even contradicts its own logic. A simple question exposes this contradiction: if the protesters in the streets, whose numbers in the current protests have reached hundreds of thousands and even millions, are terrorists, then what is the government doing to ensure national security? How is it possible that in a single country hundreds of thousands or millions of people could be spies or terrorists?

Since 2022, and especially in the current protests, a conscious shift has taken place in the language and actions of protesters. Severe repression in regions such as the Lur-populated areas along the Zagros mountain range, Kurdistan, Baluchistan, and parts of northern Iran has not led to the isolation of these regions, but rather to nationwide empathy. Slogans, symbols, and narratives no longer originate from a single center; the suffering of the periphery has moved to the center and become a shared language of protest. When the killing of a Kurdish woman, a Baluchi child, or a Lur youth is recognized as a “national” issue, the regime loses its tools of polarization.

This solidarity has not emerged from erasing differences, but from recognizing them and understanding a common enemy. In the current protests in Iran, the only common enemy is the Islamic Republic itself, a regime and a structure that systematically represses everyone, albeit with different levels of intensity. It is this shared awareness that has preserved the cohesion of the movement in the face of divisive efforts.

— Given the severe economic war and sanctions, to what extent do protesters blame external forces versus internal mismanagement and corruption for their plight?

— This is a very important question. I will draw part of my answer from one of the slogans chanted by protesters. In both past protests and the current demonstrations in Iran, protesters have repeatedly chanted: “Neither Gaza nor Lebanon, my life is for Iran.”

From the dominant narratives in the minds of protesters, which are clearly reflected in their slogans, it is evident that sanctions and external pressures are seen as a context for the crisis, not its primary cause. Protesters correctly distinguish between the limitations and sanctions imposed by the United States and Europe and the deliberate decisions made internally in Iran.

Decades of experience with sanctions have taught people that the impact of external pressure becomes truly devastating when combined with mismanagement, structural corruption, and the prioritization of ideology over public welfare. For this reason, the anger of protesters is directed less at foreign powers and their sanctions, and more at the internal power networks of the Islamic Republic, which continue to benefit from rents, smuggling, embezzlement, and opaque economic practices even under sanctions.

For many protesters, the central issue is that if the country’s resources were spent on domestic economic needs rather than on military and regional projects—such as the heavy expenditures the Islamic Republic allocates to its proxy forces in the region—the society would not be so vulnerable. Therefore, in the minds of protesters, sanctions are not an excuse; they are an amplifying factor that has made the government’s inefficiency and corruption even more apparent.

— We see extreme violence, internet blackouts, and mass arrests. How has the near-total internet shutdown since Jan. 8, 2026 affected people's ability to work, access basic services, or find scarce goods?

— The internet shutdown during the current protests, which is far more extensive in both scope and duration than even the 2019 protests in Iran, has had effects beyond mere disruption of communication and has effectively paralyzed everyday life.

According to information received in the past few days from informed sources who were able, with difficulty, to communicate with me via Starlink, the banking systems have essentially ceased functioning. Banks are providing almost no services. Payment cards connected to the Shetab networkShetab is an electronic banking clearance and automated payments system used in Iran. are largely inoperative, with only Bank MellatBank Mellat is an Iranian commercial bank. It is partly owned by the Government of Islamic Republic of Iran. cards usable during limited hours of the day. Gas stations either do not provide services or, if they do, only accept cash payments. Medical and healthcare appointment systems are disrupted. Access to information about available goods is limited, and in conditions of scarcity, this lack of information can lead to heightened anxiety and hoarding.

The situation is extremely critical. In effect, the internet shutdown is not merely a tool for political suppression—it has also become a form of economic and psychological pressure on society, directly undermining the ability of people to survive and organize.

— Beyond the obvious brutality, what are the more subtle or systemic methods of repression and social control being employed by the state to crush dissent and sow fear today?

— Repression by the Islamic Republic’s security forces in the current protests in Iran goes far beyond killings, gunfire, and arrests; a significant part of this repression is systematic and covert. The regime has employed new methods to suppress protests. According to information provided with great difficulty via Starlink by informed sources, the Islamic Republic has completely shut down the media flow within Iran. Apart from the state-run broadcasting organization, which is fully aligned with the regime’s ideology and under its control, protesters have no access to any other media. Very few people in Iran have access to Starlink. Mobile and landline networks are mostly cut off, and citizens believe that the regime monitors calls during the brief periods when mobile networks are operational.

This has created widespread insecurity and put a severe psychological strain on society. Families are being charged exorbitant amounts to receive the bodies of those killed in the protests. The government reportedly demands between $5,000 and $7,000 to release the bodies of protesters. In many cases, families cannot pay such amounts, and the authorities use repeated pressure to force them into televised confessions. They compel families to state on government TV that their children were killed by terrorists, or even to identify the deceased as members of the BasijBasij is a paramilitary volunteer militia within the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC). Initially established as an independent organization, it has become one of the main internal security enforcers for the Iranian regime, working closely with the police and other forces during civil unrest and protests to curb anti-government sentiments. or other security forces, in exchange for retrieving the body. This is a clear human rights violation.

According to the latest reports, the regime’s security forces have also raided people’s homes, destroying or confiscating satellite dishes and receivers. Their aim is to prevent the public from following foreign-based news outlets, particularly Persian-language media critical of the regime. On many days, around 5 or 6 p.m.—close to the start of demonstrations—widespread jamming is applied to block these foreign broadcasts. For the first time, the regime has even disrupted Starlink connections. They are tracking protesters and a small segment of people connected to Starlink, and some of these individuals have been arrested. The authorities are determined to prevent the scale of killings and crimes from being reported outside Iran.

Reports received since yesterdayThe reports were received on the 17th of January, 2026, but they covered the events of January 8th and 9th, 2026. by some journalists and human rights activists outside Iran indicate that security forces have executed some of the wounded. Hospitals are attacked, and injured individuals are forcibly removed. In addition to the dead, many injured, detained, and missing protesters have not returned home, leaving families without any information about their loved ones. Some individuals have been forced to cross land borders into countries such as Turkey or Armenia to contact family abroad. Others have had to go near the borders just to access the internet.

Many protesters have been tried in closed, expedited courts and sentenced to execution in the shortest possible time. The Islamic Republic uses psychological and security pressures and various threats to ensure that families of the killed and detained do not release any information outside the country.

Another tool of suppression employed by the regime in these protests is the confiscation of property from protesters and bazaar merchants who joined the nationwide strikes in the early days of the demonstrations. For example, in the city of Qom, one of Iran’s most religious cities, the regime arrested Mohammad Saedinia, a well-known brand owner, accusing him of supporting protesters and participating in strikes, and confiscated all his property and bank accounts.

Protesters are labeled as terrorists, and without any evidence, they are forced to confess on television to espionage for Israel or the United States. In addition to ethnic groups, religious and minority communities have clearly participated in and suffered from these protests. For instance, reports indicate that twelve ethnic Armenian citizens of Iran have been killed. Among them is Ejmin Masihi, a 17-year-old teenager. There are also reports of the deaths of an Afghan citizen and a Canadian citizen.

The number of those killed is far higher than officially reported, as the lack of internet and direct communication with Iran makes accurate reporting extremely difficult. However, the latest confirmed and published figures indicate that at least 36,000 people^[1] have been killed during these protests, clearly reflecting systematic killings and an evident violation of human rights. These deaths represent only part of the tools the Islamic Republic has employed to suppress and control the protests. Internet and communication remain cut off in Iran, and it is likely that only once connectivity is restored will it be possible to provide a more detailed account of the multiple methods of repression.

The ultimate goal of this extensive crackdown is not only to silence the protests, but also to isolate protesters, sever bonds of solidarity, and instill the perception that the costs of protesting are unlimited and unpredictable.

— With a near-total nationwide internet shutdown in place, how are people inside managing to document and share evidence? What does the clandestine chain for getting a photo or video to the outside world look like now?

— The images, videos, and news that have made their way out of Iran during the current protests highlight several important points.

First, it is crucial to recognize that Iran ranks at the very bottom globally in terms of press freedom. No journalist, photojournalist , or reporter can freely go to the streets and report or publish information. In this context, the people themselves have taken action—they are simultaneously fighting and reporting. This trend has become far more pronounced compared to past protests. Essentially, all media coverage and news are now produced by the citizens themselves.

Second, while it is true that the internet in Iran has been almost completely cut off, government agents have raided homes, and a small number of people with Starlink access have been arrested—or, for the first time in history, even Starlink connections have been disrupted—there are still trickles of news and data reaching journalists outside Iran, albeit slowly and intermittently. In some cases, individuals have had to leave Iran overland and cross into countries such as Turkey and Armenia to transmit information to the international community and journalists abroad.

This is an extremely difficult and risky task, but people are standing together and making every effort to ensure their voices are heard worldwide.

The overall internet situation in Iran remains critical. After eight days of almost total blackout, only about 2 percent of the population has been able to access the global internet—and only for a few hours before it is cut again. It is still unclear what the government’s long-term policy is, but there is a real possibility that Iran’s internet could become entirely nationalized, with minimal connection to the outside world. In effect, this amounts to a hostage situation involving millions of people.

— The UN reports a severity of killings “unprecedented” in Iran's protest history. What is different about the state's tactics and weaponry in this crackdown compared to 2022?

— Compared to the 2022 “Woman, Life, Freedom” movement, repression in the current 2026 protests has entered a new quantitative and qualitative stage, both in terms of scale and tactics. While the 2022 movement involved widespread killings and violence, the government still attempted to frame repression within the bounds of “unrest control.” The predominant use of pellet guns, batons, tear gas, and violent street arrests reflected an effort to contain protests with minimal international political cost.

In 2026, according to field reports and information from medical and human rights sources, the pattern has shifted dramatically: live ammunition is being used more frequently, shots are aimed directly at vital parts of the body, snipers are deployed in residential areas, automatic weapons are employed, and wounded individuals are being executed on the spot. Statistically, both the speed and density of killings have increased significantly compared to the 2022 movement; reports indicate thousands killed in very short periods of time within concentrated urban areas. The objective is no longer merely to disperse crowds—it is now killing, creating shock, and inducing social paralysis.

At the same time, information suppression has reached unprecedented levels. Complete internet shutdowns, systematic raids on private homes, confiscation of communication devices, and pressure on families to retrieve bodies only in exchange for silence or coerced televised confessions demonstrate a “combined” model of repression. This approach simultaneously deploys killings, physical violence, narrative control, and psychological intimidation on a scale far beyond the 2022 movement.

Whereas in 2022 the government still cared about managing its image and maintaining a minimal amount of lost legitimacy, in 2026 survival logic appears to have replaced considerations of legitimacy.

— Can you map the opposition landscape? Which factions (monarchists, ethnic groups, secular democrats, MEK) have actual influence on the ground, and which only have a voice abroad?

— This is a very difficult question, and the answer is inherently complex and multi-layered. I believe that the real power inside the country lies primarily with self-organized social movements. Today’s Iranian opposition is largely decentralized, and the lack of formal alliances or coalitions among them is evident. I think the main source of power in Iran rests with the protesters on the streets. These movements do not have hierarchical structures, defined leaders, or dependence on external resources, yet their on-the-ground presence and influence in organizing protests, shaping information networks, and maintaining national cohesion are undeniable.

There are, however, several important points regarding the current protests. First, it would be a mistake to attribute the start of these protests to any specific opposition group. The protests began in Tehran’s bazaar on December 28, whereas calls from the monarchist opposition led by Reza PahlaviPrince Reza Pahlavi is on of the main figures of Iranian opposition, currently in exile in the United States. A member of the Pahlavi dynasty and the eldest son of the last shah of Iran, he was officially named a crowned prince of Iran prior to the Iranian Revolution of 1979. were only issued from January 8 onward. While one cannot deny that Reza Pahlavi has a notable social base in Iran and that a significant portion of the population supports his return, there remain serious uncertainties about whether he could effectively lead a unified opposition, play a constructive role in a post-Islamic Republic Iran, or help establish a functioning democracy. Consequently, his current performance has been subject to substantial criticism among large segments of the Iranian public and opposition.

At the same time, Republican, secular democratic, liberal, and left-leaning groups have so far failed to present a unified plan for transitioning from the Islamic Republic. While many advocate for a transitional council, years of struggle inside and outside Iran have yet to produce an active, centralized council. There are exceptions, such as certain Kurdish parties, which operate in an organized, centralized, and goal-oriented manner. Regarding the People’s Mojahedin Organization of IranThe People's Mojahedin Organization of Iran (PMOI), also known as Mojahedin-e-Khalq (MEK) is an exiled Iranian opposition organization. (PMOI/MEK), it must be noted that while they are the only opposition group with a centralized structure for fighting the Islamic Republic, they largely lack legitimacy and acceptance among Iranians. I personally consider them a terrorist organization due to their ideological extremism, history of violence, and at times blind armed actions. Thus, in conversations with many people in Iran, it can be said that they have almost no meaningful social base within the country.

Most Iranian opposition groups today exert influence primarily from abroad, operating through international media, social networks, political lobbying, and analytical reporting. In recent years, however, their operational capacity and on-the-ground organization within Iran have been severely restricted. They are generally unable to directly guide popular movements, and their influence is mostly limited to shaping narratives, garnering international support, and applying diplomatic pressure—capacities that have themselves been minimized during recent and current protests.

A key point is that the Islamic Republic has consistently attempted to isolate domestic networks and opponents from foreign movements, creating social divisions while conducting systematic infiltration of the opposition. Ultimately, I can reiterate that the real field power inside Iran lies much more with self-organized movements than with the formal opposition.

— The movement seems to be decentralized and leaderless. From your perspective, is this a strength or a vulnerability in the face of state repression? How does coordination and tactical knowledge spread without a central command?

— The fact that the current protests have no defined leader or central command can be both a major strength and a potential weakness. One of its key strengths, especially when facing the brutal repression of the Islamic Republic, is precisely this lack of centralized leadership. Undoubtedly, having a leader, team, or council can be highly effective for strategic planning and overall coordination, but operationally, the absence of a single leader should not be seen simply as a disadvantage.

If these protests were hierarchical or directed by a central leadership, given the regime’s ruthless approach to killing, targeting or arresting a few key figures could have paralyzed the entire movement. Instead, now each neighborhood or small group can make its own decisions and continue acting independently. This means that even if one part of the protest slows down or is suppressed, others keep moving. Coordination and tactical knowledge emerge organically from these local networks and street-level experience.

People are learning how to identify safe routes, recognize security forces, and properly time their movements and gatherings. This knowledge is transmitted through lessons from past protests, secure sharing between groups, and the trust and solidarity among demonstrators. For this reason, even though the current movement may appear decentralized, it possesses extraordinary flexibility and resilience.

— What are the specific, practical barriers preventing a unified opposition coalition? Is it ideology, personality, security, or regime manipulation?

— I believe the main obstacle to a unified opposition is not merely ideological differences, but rather a combination of several interconnected factors.

First, there is a deep historical distrust among the various Iranian opposition groups. Many carry memories of past failures, which makes them constantly wary of repeating history rather than focusing on a shared goal or forming an alliance.

Second, personalities and leadership play a significant role. Competition for visibility and political authority often turns personal rivalries into political divisions. This has been clearly visible in many opposition groups over the years.

The third factor is security. Within Iran, any serious attempt at networking is immediately met with infiltration, arrests, and fabricated charges. The regime deliberately creates an unsafe environment to prevent the formation of any sustainable structure. This goes beyond mere repression—it is a continuous erosion of trust.

Fourth, active manipulation by the regime further obstructs unity. By sowing divisions and exploiting existing differences among opposition groups, the government hinders the creation of a cohesive and purposeful opposition structure.

As a result, the opposition faces not only political disagreements but also a relentless security-driven effort by the Islamic Republic to suppress and dismantle any potential alliances.

— Describe the clandestine cultural resistance (the music, art, graffiti, and memes, etc.) that fuels morale. How does it circulate now?

— Cultural and artistic resistance in Iran remains one of the most vibrant and impactful forms of struggle. This is because it takes place in spaces where the government has the least direct control. Such artistic and cultural activity is not mere entertainment; it functions as a way to rebuild collective morale. When repression reaches its peak, art becomes a psychological refuge for society.

However, during the current protests, this form of resistance has been less visible. But this was when the protests were early and the internet was still completely cut off in Iran.

Over the past two weeks, we have seen that the amount of protest art in the recent protests has been much greater than any protest that has occurred in Iran in the past fifty years. Many artists who normally fulfill their social responsibility through art and culture rely heavily on social media as their platform. This was also prominent during the 2022 “Women, Life, Freedom” movement.

Additionally, activities like slogan-writing and socio-political graffiti—which are considered crimes in Iran—carry significant risks, including arrest and long prison sentences.

— There are Iranian diasporas in many countries. How do the opinions and political views of certain diasporas differ from those of Iranians inside the country? Or in the opposite, one can say that this factor is not that important as others (eg. class, political views, age)?

— There are certainly differences and divergent perspectives between Iranians inside and outside the country, and this cannot be denied. However, these differences largely stem from the contrast in lived experiences. Iranians living abroad are generally more radical, which is clearly visible among segments of various opposition groups and their supporters outside Iran. Meanwhile, the unity among people inside the country is significantly stronger.

I think those living inside Iran face daily economic pressure, repression, and direct insecurity, so their decisions tend to be more cautious and gradual. On the other hand, some Iranians abroad, because they do not bear the immediate costs of protesting, sometimes think more radically and consider immediate, maximal solutions more feasible. Yet, many of these measures are analyzed and implemented more cautiously by people inside Iran.

This difference is not a matter of indifference or irresponsibility; rather, it reflects the gap in lived experiences between these two groups.

— International media seem to be very much biased when it comes to covering the situation in Iran, can you comment on it? Which outlets can be trusted, if any?

— In my opinion, international media have never covered Iran in a truly fair and impartial way and have consistently pursued their own political interests in relation to the country. Iran is an extremely important and influential nation, both regionally and globally. Yet the way it is portrayed in international media, especially in recent years and during the current protests, is at times disturbing. I feel that Iran is not treated as a living society under oppression, but rather as a “case study” or a “regime-change file.” This is a crucial point.

More than 90 million people live in Iran. However, the responsibility of international media toward them, particularly in recent years, has largely been reduced to reactive, wave-like, and temporary coverage. When the situation in Iran becomes critical, it turns into a headline story, but when geopolitical priorities shift, Iran is quickly pushed to the margins. In my view, this is deeply unjust to the people inside Iran who pay the direct price of repression.

I cannot point to a single specific outlet, because this unfairness can be observed across most international media. However, for Iranians, and even for English-speaking audiences, there is one first-rate source for news on Iran: Vahid Online. Vahid currently lives in the United States. He was arrested in Iran years ago and now resides in the U.S. For more than a decade, he has run a fully independent media platform with no affiliation to any party or political faction, and for many Iranians he is a trusted source of independent and unbiased news.

— What, specifically, should the international community (governments, NGOs, media) be doing that it currently is not? What forms of solidarity from abroad are most effective, and what well-intentioned actions are actually counterproductive?

— It is simple. The main problem is not that the international community is doing nothing, but that what it does is often symbolic, slow, and low-cost. We are dealing with one of the most dangerous and violent regimes in modern history. How many dictators can be named who have massacred their own people on such a scale? Khamenei himself has openly referred in his speeches to the killing of thousands.

Under the current conditions, the global community has limited itself mainly to statements of concern, condemnations, and emergency meetings that often lead nowhere. Clearly, these are not adequate responses to a regime that is massacring its own population. Nor are they deterrent. If the Islamic Republic excels at anything, it is the killing of its opponents. Repression is not an exception for this regime; it is a core skill, practiced systematically and efficiently.

The international community must move beyond symbolic politics and enter a phase of real action. A few years ago, the Islamic Republic abducted a well-known Iranian journalist, Ruhollah Zam, and later executed him. Today, many Iranians repeat one of his statements more than ever. Years ago, he argued that the Islamic Republic could fall in only two ways: through foreign military intervention or through the arming of the people inside Iran. He believed there was no third option.

I share this view. When a regime has closed every door to dialogue, democracy, and civil politics, there is little left to work with. One may ask how a person could wish for foreign military intervention against their own country. It may seem unbelievable, but I see no remaining practical way to stop the Islamic Republic. Either through external force, or through the people inside Iran becoming armed.

— What is the single most important thing the outside world fails to understand about this moment in Iran?

— In my view, the most important thing the world has yet to understand—or in some cases, deliberately refuses to acknowledge for its own interests—is that what is happening in Iran today is not a temporary or short-lived crisis. It is a deep and irreversible rift between society and the state.

Many in the international community still approach Iran with outdated assumptions: that with some reforms, political deals, or tactical adjustments, the situation can be “managed.” But this is no longer the case. Iranian society has moved beyond that stage. The issue is no longer just gasoline prices, the hijab, or a single election; the problem is the complete collapse of public trust in the entire structure of power. The Islamic Republic holds no legitimacy among the Iranian people except for a very small minority who are directly dependent on the regime.

The world also underestimates the depth of the generational shift. The new generation of Iranians has no memory of the 1979 Revolution and does not believe in incremental promises or gradual reforms. This generation perceives nothing to lose, which makes the rupture irreversible. Even if the streets temporarily quiet down, this gap will not heal. Today’s protests are not a fleeting wave—they are a signal that Iran has entered a new historical period, one that will inevitably lead to fundamental change.

— What are the realistic scenarios for the next 1-3 years?

— The current situation is extremely complex. It’s very difficult to predict scenarios with certainty. However, given the unfolding events, I can say with a high degree of confidence that the Islamic Republic is likely to fall. What happens after the fall of the regime, though, is truly unpredictable—virtually anything is possible.

Yasaman Sajadi

My name is Yasaman Sajadi. More than anything, I choose to define myself as an Iranian woman, because the choices that shape who I am have been deeply influenced by my gender and by the gender-based oppression I have experienced under the Islamic Republic. I studied Social Communication Sciences at the Faculty of Social Sciences, University of Tehran. Due to the repeated repression by the Islamic Republic’s security forces and the university’s disciplinary apparatus, I decided not to continue my studies there. My work in research and investigative journalism has focused on Afghan migrants, an issue that alarmed the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps and led to my interrogation. These days, I am engaged in facilitating reading groups for children and adolescents, while also pursuing a master’s degree in social sciences at Iran Academia. I currently live in Armenia, and I carry such deep pain from the experience of living under the Islamic Republic that I have no desire to return to my homeland. This may sound painful, but it is the truth.

— These protests began with shopkeepers in Tehran's Grand Bazaar on December 28, 2025. Why did this traditionally conservative merchant class finally snap? What does their participation signal?

— Bazaar merchants constitute a conservative class that has historically sought to secure relative stability and safeguard its own class interests. In the Iranian context, bazaaris have also traditionally exercised religious influence, an influence that has largely translated into political silence rather than opposition. What is currently unfolding in Iran, however, is that economic inflation has reached a stage where it no longer generates profit for this class. On the contrary, it has produced tangible losses and accelerated the economic disintegration of the bazaar, since inflation is only functional for bazaar merchants when it remains predictable and manageable.

Another crucial factor is the role of the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps as a dominant economic actor. Through organized smuggling networks and rent-based import mechanisms, the has fundamentally reshaped Iran’s economy in ways that directly undermine the interests of traditional bazaar merchants.

For this reason, the fact that the bazaar has emerged as the starting point of the current protests should not be interpreted as evidence of the bazaaris’ transformation into a revolutionary force. Rather, it reveals the Islamic Republic’s growing inability to sustain even its own traditional allies. The state has become unpredictable not only for society at large, but also for its beneficiary classes. As a result, the historically central alliance between the clergy, the bazaar, and the security apparatus appears to be eroding from within.

Most importantly, this situation should not be reduced to an economic crisis alone. It points to a deeper crisis of governance: a system that can no longer regulate economic life, manage social alliances, or reproduce the conditions necessary for its own stability.

— How do the 2026 protests specifically connect to the “Woman, Life, Freedom” movement that began in 2022? How do you see the intersection of gender oppression with ethnic and class oppression in the current struggle?

— I remain firmly committed to the values of the “Woman, Life, Freedom” movement. For me, the protests that have unfolded since 2022 are not isolated or episodic events, but a direct continuation of the revolutionary uprising sparked by Jina (Mahsa) Amini’s killing, and more broadly part of a longer cycle of anti-regime protests that began in 2017 with the explicit aim of overthrowing the Islamic Republic. If I were in Iran, I would undoubtedly be chanting this slogan in the streets as a clear rejection of the regime, because “Woman, Life, Freedom” is among the most radical and progressive slogans in Iran’s contemporary history. It articulates a collective struggle against systemic domination and the intersection of gendered, class-based, ethnic, and religious forms of oppression.

However, from the very beginning of the current wave of protests, certain groups aligned with Reza Pahlavi have actively attempted to marginalize this slogan and to portray the “Woman, Life, Freedom” movement as politically exhausted or belonging to the past. In doing so, they seek to appropriate an independent, grassroots popular struggle and subordinate it to a top-down, elite-driven political project. Their insistence on a homogenized notion of “national unity,” which largely ignores structural inequalities and sidelines the demands of ethnic minorities, has likely contributed to hesitation and alienation among marginalized groups. As a result, there appear to be indications that the level, or at least the visibility, of participation by ethnic minorities in the 2026 protests has declined compared to the 2022 uprising.

I raise this critique deliberately, because Reza Pahlavi, his supporters, and aligned media outlets persistently attempt to present him as the sole viable alternative for Iran’s future. This narrative not only narrows the political horizon of the protests, but also weakens their emancipatory and anti-authoritarian potential.

Nevertheless, a significant portion of Iranian society—from students and women to workers and economically marginalized groups—continues to identify with the political horizon opened by the 2022 uprising. The continued presence of the slogan “Woman, Life, Freedom” alongside “Death to the oppressor, whether Shah or Supreme Leader” demonstrates that this struggle is not only alive, but unresolved, and fundamentally opposed to all forms of authoritarian power.

— How has the movement fostered solidarity across ethnic lines (Persian, Kurdish, Baluch, Azeri, etc.) in the face of a regime that tries to divide them?

— These protests have emerged in a context in which the Islamic Republic, from the very first days of its existence, has systematically been built upon the logic of “divide and rule.” A logic that, through the securitization of ethnic identities, the repression of peripheral regions, and the deliberate amplification of linguistic, religious, and regional differences, seeks to render the formation of a shared political subject fundamentally impossible. In my view, the political memory of previous protests plays a decisive role here. The 2022 uprising and its bloody repression in ethnic regions, particularly in Zahedan and the cities of Kurdistan, are no longer understood merely as local or marginal events, but have become an inseparable part of the collective memory of protest. For a segment of Iranian society, this memory is being reread in a radical way: not as the suffering of “others,” but as the exposure of a general pattern of violence, exclusion, and necropolitical governance within the Islamic Republic. It is precisely this rereading that has strengthened the possibility of horizontal forms of solidarity, even though these solidarities remain unequal, fragile, and vulnerable to erosion.

That said, one must avoid political romanticism. This solidarity is neither complete nor consolidated. Centralist policies, homogenizing nationalist narratives, and the deliberate efforts of certain political forces to neutralize or erase ethnic demands continue to actively reproduce hierarchies and fractures. Nevertheless, the crucial difference between the present moment and many previous periods lies in the fact that the question of ethnicity is no longer framed as a secondary, marginal, or unity-threatening issue; rather, it is gradually being placed at the very core of questions of justice, equality, and freedom. In this sense, ethnic solidarity within the protests is not the product of a symbolic, artificial, top-down unity, but the outcome of a shared experience of repression, exclusion, and direct confrontation with an authoritarian regime; a regime that fears solidarity because it grounds its survival not in social consent, but in the perpetuation of divisions, inequalities, and internal enemy-making.

— Given the severe economic war and sanctions, to what extent do protesters blame external forces versus internal mismanagement and corruption for their plight?

— It appears that although the Iranian people are undoubtedly among the direct victims of economic warfare and sanctions, within their own political understanding they primarily hold the Islamic Republic responsible for the current situation, rather than attributing it first and foremost to external forces. The Islamic Republic has consistently attempted to frame social protests as the result of a “foreign enemy” and to present sanctions as the ultimate cause of economic crises. This narrative is not meant to explain reality, but to conceal the role of the power structure itself in producing poverty and inequality.

However, slogans such as “Poverty, corruption, high prices, we will fight until overthrow” demonstrate that protesters identify the main source of the crisis not outside Iran’s borders, but within the governing structure itself. People’s lived experience of systemic rent-seekingRent-seeking is the practice of trying to change or control public policy or economic conditions in order to increase your own profits., the destruction of public resources, costly ideological projects at the regional level, and the persistent repression of labor has reinforced the understanding that sanctions operate as a destructive force only within a context already shaped by mismanagement, corruption, and the regime’s ideological priorities.

From this perspective, sanctions are indeed crisis-producing, but what has transformed this crisis into a widespread catastrophe is the mode of governance of the Islamic Republic. This approach does not imply a complete exoneration of external forces. Many protesters are well aware that sanctions are unjust and directly target the everyday lives of ordinary people. Nevertheless, the dominant political anger is directed at a government that has not only failed to protect society from these pressures, but has consciously sought to turn sanctions into an ideological shield—an instrument for erasing the traces of internal corruption, militarizing the economy, and suppressing any social demand by labeling it as “collaboration with the enemy.”

In this sense, the protests are less a reaction to external pressure than a direct response to a structure that does not manage the crisis, but feeds on it.

— Every time the Islamic Republic has sought to suppress widespread protests in Iran, it has cut off the internet and repeatedly raised the idea of “nationalizing the internet.” This time, on January 8, 2026, the nationwide internet was completely shut down to hide the crimes committed against protesters. As far as we currently know, between 12,000 and 36,000 or even more people have been killed^[1]—a staggering number that is difficult to state, because they are not just numbers; they were human beings who took to the streets with hopes for freedom and justice, demanding the overthrow of the Islamic Republic.

The internet blackout, along with the disruption of telephone lines and SMS services, has made communication between people, both inside and outside the country, nearly impossible. Iranians abroad live in fear and anxiety over the fate of their loved ones, while people inside the country have no way to know about each other’s situation. Only in the past few daysThis interview was taken on the 17th of January. have some been able to make calls via landlines, which comes at a heavy cost.

Online businesses have been completely paralyzed, and banking transactions have

been reduced to a minimum. Without the internet, using online banking services is impossible, and even withdrawing cash from ATMs has become limited and difficult. The prices of many essential goods, including cooking oil, have skyrocketed. The only limited sources of news and communication available are those who, at great risk and expense, have access to satellite internet such as Starlink.

The internet shutdown, the restriction of communications, and the disruption of the economy are not technical failures—they are tools of repression and concealment of the truth. Through these actions, the Islamic Republic aims to isolate the people, instill fear, and prevent them from continuing their protests or sharing information.

— Beyond the obvious brutality, what are the more subtle or systemic methods of repression and social control being employed by the state to crush dissent and sow fear today?

In the early days of the protests, schools and universities were closed under the absurd pretext of extreme cold. The student movement has always been a key force in the protests, and closing universities takes away one of the main arenas of youth resistance.
CCTV cameras and drones are used to track and identify protesters’ faces. Protesters are forced to cover their faces and even attempt to disable cameras to protect their lives.
Forced confessions are one of the main tools of systematic repression. The government compels protesters to sit in front of state-run media cameras and confess to alleged “crimes,” portraying them as foreign agents, terrorists, or criminals. This propaganda is designed to delegitimize genuine dissent, but people are no longer fooled.
Plainclothes security forces infiltrate crowds, acting as provocateurs and spies.
Government forces deliberately damage or vandalize certain public spaces to create pretexts for arresting others.
The bodies of killed protesters are either handed over to families in exchange for money or falsely presented as members of the government without payment.
Many victims are buried without their families being informed, and funeral ceremonies are tightly controlled to erase any signs of resistance.
Pro-government rallies are organized using forces loyal to the Islamic Republic to create a false appearance of public support.
Cyberattacks target protesters on social media.
Nationwide internet shutdowns.
Mass arrests of street protesters and media activists.
Death sentences are used to eliminate opposition and instill fear and terror among the people.

— The UN reports a severity of killings “unprecedented” in Iran's protest history. What is different about the state's tactics and weaponry in this crackdown compared to 2022?

— It seems that in 2026, the tactics shifted toward direct and systematic targeting to kill protesters, whereas in 2022, the focus was mostly on dispersing crowds and creating fear and terror.

2022: The repression primarily involved limited shootings, tear gas, batons, and plastic or pellet bullets to disperse crowds. The main goal was controlling the streets and preventing gatherings, not targeted killings.

2026: The crackdown became far more severe and deadly. On the nights of January 8 and 9, we witnessed mass killings and crimes against humanity, as protesters were shot directly with rifles and shotguns loaded with metal pellets aimed at the head and torso—even from rooftops, mosques, and police stations. These weapons were designed for direct killing, not merely dispersing crowds. Even in the current protests, security forces of the Islamic Republic have attacked hospitals and executed the wounded and injured with point-blank shots.

— Can you map the opposition landscape? Which factions (monarchists, ethnic groups, secular democrats, MEK) have actual influence on the ground, and which only have a voice abroad?

— In my view, the opposition and the main revolutionary force are the people in the streets of Iran. The protests emerge from below, rooted in the real struggles of the people—poverty, repression, discrimination, corruption, and the suppression of social rights. I also believe that ethnic and oppressed national groups should be integrated with the broader social movement to form a truly progressive and anti-repression resistance.

— I understand that some people have a desire for a savior or a central leader. Even now, although Reza Pahlavi is merely the son of Iran’s former king and one of the figures who presents himself as part of the opposition, some call him the “father of Iran.” This reflects the Iranian longing for a paternal figure or someone at the top.

However, my ideal is to avoid personality cults. During the 2022 protests, I lived in Iran, and one reason I felt such a strong sense of belonging to the “Women, Life, Freedom” movement was that no one could claim leadership over it. People across Iran can protest spontaneously and without a leader. Coordination also spreads through shared experience, tactical imitation, and horizontal networks; in other words, each neighborhood, group, or small circle shares knowledge and tactics with others.

— What are the specific, practical barriers preventing a unified opposition coalition? Is it ideology, personality, security, or regime manipulation?

— The barriers to a unified opposition in Iran are not simply a matter of ideological disagreements or leadership rivalries—they are rooted in the country’s social structure, entrenched repression, and historical fractures. These conditions force individuals and factions to prioritize their own survival over collective political action. Yet, when a broad, autonomous, and grassroots movement rises, real coalitions can form, and the artificial authority of foreign powers or elite-driven groups will be displaced by the tangible power of people mobilized in the streets.

— Describe the clandestine cultural resistance (the music, art, graffiti, and memes, etc.) that fuels morale. How does it circulate now?

— Given the internet shutdown during the peak of the current protests, we do not have precise information about the hidden cultural resistance of the Iranian people. Your question, however, reminds me of the 2022 protests, when we witnessed a widespread surge of protest art. One interesting point on the Persian-language Twitter timeline during the early days of the 2026 protests caught my attention: in 2022, Mehdi Yarrahi released two songs titled Zan and Zendegi (Woman and Life), and this time, Iranian users were expecting a song titled Azadi (Freedom).

— What are the realistic scenarios for the next 1-3 years?

— I am not sure whether this is realistic or not, but I want to remain hopeful that the Islamic Republic will collapse and that Ali Khamenei and other senior officials of the regime will be put on trial. What does seem likely, however, is that within the next one to three years Iran will face deepening economic and social crises that state repression will no longer be able to contain. Widespread public discontent, combined with the collective memory of past crackdowns, is likely to intensify fragmented and spontaneous protests—protests that once again bring the lower classes, women, workers, and ethnic minorities to the forefront.

— Because of the depth and seriousness of your questions, compared to many other media outlets, I decided to respond. Otherwise, I might have hesitated, and in fact I often do, because I do not believe I have the right to tell people who take to the streets despite being fully aware of repression and killing how they should think or struggle. At the same time, I consider it my right to express my own views, to voice my opposition to certain political groups, and to remain deeply concerned about the fate of people, my family, and my loved ones in Iran. We all know that we are united in our rejection of the Islamic Republic, but we hold different political perspectives and imagine different paths toward its dismantling. I think the condition of being a migrant itself, alongside other factors, plays a significant role. In fact, living outside the immediate terrain of struggle and direct confrontation with repression inevitably shapes the form of one’s radicalism, one’s demands, and one’s perception of the costs of political struggle.

— International media seem to be very much biased when it comes to covering the situation in Iran, can you comment on it? Which outlets can be trusted, if any?

— International media coverage of Iran is entirely shaped by their position within the global capitalist order. In practice, even the most liberal media outlets tend to engage with protests only insofar as they do not challenge the existing global order. Persian-language media based outside Iran have also each turned into platforms for a particular individual, group, or faction of the opposition, while boycotting or discrediting other groups and voices. Personally, I do not consider any single media outlet as my main reference or source, especially those that have turned into brands. I prefer to pay closer attention to independent media and to read multiple, diverse narratives. Ultimately, reality finds its own way of revealing itself, and the stain remains on those media actors who have tried to distort it.

— What, concretely, should the international community (governments, NGOs, media) be doing that it currently is not? What forms of solidarity from abroad are most effective, and what well-intentioned actions are actually counterproductive?

— For me, realism means understanding that the issue is not simply that the international community should act but fails to do so. The issue is a structural conflict of interests. States, international institutions, and major media outlets are doing exactly what is necessary for the survival of the global capitalist order. For none of them does the freedom of the Iranian people or liberation from the dictatorship of the Islamic Republic truly matter.

Take the issue of a U.S. attack as an example. In the early days of the 2026 protests, Trump said that if the Islamic Republic killed anyone, the United States would attack it. Many people who had spontaneously taken to the streets and were confronting the repressive forces of the Islamic Republic with bare hands believed that they were going to be supported by the U.S. They even imagined a scenario like Venezuela. Then, despite the Islamic Republic’s crimes against the people, after killing between 12,000 and 20,000 individuals, Trump thanked the Islamic Republic for canceling executions.

Personally, I am opposed to military intervention, and my point is that for Trump, neither the destruction of the Islamic Republic nor the number of Iranians killed matters. What matters to him is his own interests, and he will support whoever offers him a better deal. In the current situation, nothing matters more to him than competition with China, and many of his decisions are shaped by that rivalry.

On the other hand, European countries and international organizations have, in recent years, limited themselves to condemning the repression of the Iranian people by the Islamic Republic. Frankly, I too, now living outside Iran and in safety, can very easily condemn the actions of the Islamic Republic. These two things are equally ineffective. They should sever economic and security relations with the Islamic Republic. They should understand Iran well enough to recognize that these protests are against structural poverty, class and gender repression, and all forms of inequality.

For me, nothing is more meaningful than the people themselves bringing down the Islamic Republic, rather than a future in which the interests of other countries might align with demands for which Iranians have spent years protesting and being killed. And finally, we should not forget that in the current conditions, secure access to the internet is of critical importance for the people of Iran.

— What is the single most important thing the outside world fails to understand about this moment in Iran?

— I believe that what is happening in Iran can only truly be understood through the lived experience of life under the Islamic Republic. Reducing the 2026 protests to purely economic or livelihood-based unrest ignores decades of prior protests and the everyday forms of resistance through which people have continually said no to this regime. As I explained earlier, the starting point of these protests may have been economic, and that is important, but under current conditions almost any economic, social, or political trigger could have brought people into the streets.

These protests are the outcome of years of repression, structural inequality, systemic corruption, and gendered, class-based, and ethnic injustices. What only Iranians fully understand is that even if these protests do not lead to the collapse of the Islamic Republic, what follows once international attention fades is another massive wave of arrests, imprisonment, and executions. We know from experience that after every uprising, even as the foundations of the regime are weakened, society is subjected to brutal repression that produces fear, exhaustion, and despair, making sustained resistance difficult.

We are painfully aware of rising suicide rates driven by poverty and inequality. We know we are still confronting a patriarchal, misogynistic system where women are arrested and killed over compulsory hijab, and where sexual violence and abuse remain largely unaddressed due to the failure of the legal system. Over the past 47 years, the Islamic Republic has killed so many people that I sometimes feel ashamed that I cannot remember all their names and faces for the sake of justice. I have not encountered anything more terrifying than this regime, and I struggle to find words that make this reality comprehensible.

Perhaps the most meaningful thing outsiders can do is to follow the names, images, and stories of those killed by the Islamic Republic. I lived under this regime for 23 years. Although I left Iran less than a year ago, I still have frequent nightmares about sexual violence, security forces attacking me or my loved ones, and being killed by the regime’s forces. How can this be made understandable to those who have not lived it?

— In your own words, how would you describe what it means to you to be an Iranian woman today? What are the main elements that shape your identity as an Iranian woman?

— Being a woman, in my experience, has always been accompanied by systemic discrimination and oppression. Nowhere in the world have freedom and equality been granted to women; wherever they have been achieved, they have been the result of struggle. Being an Iranian woman is not, for me, an abstract concept or a pre-defined identity, but the product of twenty-three years of living under the Islamic Republic, a system that, from the moment of birth, defined my body and my life within a religious and ideological framework. Before I had any understanding of religion, I was identified as a Shi’a Muslim, an identity that was neither my choice nor something I could refuse.

From the age of nine, hijab entered my daily life as a legal obligation. Wearing a manteau and headscarf was a prerequisite for attending school, and my body, from childhood, became a site for the exercise of political power. At sixteen and seventeen, I gradually decided to resist compulsory hijab. This decision was accompanied by fear, but the desire for freedom was the dominant force. The “Woman, Life, Freedom” movement marked a rupture for me, a point at which I understood that there was no return, and that reconciliation with the dominant order was no longer possible.

In the Islamic Republic, being a woman means living under constant surveillance. My experience of student life made this surveillance tangible. In the university dormitory, my movement was restricted simply because I was a woman; nightly attendance was monitored, and if I did not return, contacting my family was used as a disciplinary tool. I was forced to fight for the most basic human rights: being without hijab, traveling alone, studying in another city, choosing my desired field of study, having sexual relationships before marriage, living with a partner, having equal rights, and saying no to the Islamic Republic. These were not merely personal choices; they were political acts that turned my body and everyday life into a site of confrontation with power.

My experience of womanhood is also intertwined with sexual violence. In childhood, I experienced sexual abuse and rape within a system that provides neither effective education for self-protection nor functional legal mechanisms to support survivors. This experience was not merely a personal suffering, but an indication of the structural failure of a system that controls women’s bodies while refusing to protect them. Witnessing the systemic oppression of women in Iran turned anger and grief into inseparable parts of my process of growing up. When I am asked about my feelings as an Iranian woman, I become stunned and burst into tears, because this question has, in my lived experience, been consistently suppressed or ignored.

For years, I imagined that I would remain in Iran and fight for my own freedom and that of others. Now, it has been about ten months since I left Iran, and my greatest fear is returning. The fact that my homeland has become a source of fear for me is itself a sign of structural violence. Today, I live in Armenia. Legally, I am free, yet I experience freedom with caution; I leave the house infrequently. For the first time, I admit that I feel shame, shame about living freely while many women in Iran remain under oppression. This shame is not an individual feeling, but the consequence of living in an unwanted migration and a fractured separation from the collective to which I belong.

My identity has been deeply shaped by politics. For me, politics is not merely the realm of formal power or government, but the point of intersection between society, culture, language, history, family, lived experience, limitations, and various forms of resistance. The Islamic Republic sought to penetrate all of these layers, to ideologically Islamize society, culture, language, history, family, and even our private lives, and to define the identity of Iranian women within a framework of obedience, denial, and control.

However, when I say that politics has shaped my identity as an Iranian woman, I do not mean acceptance of this imposed order, but precisely the opposite: my continuous resistance to it. My identity has been formed through struggle against structures of power, discriminatory laws, constant surveillance, and the repressive policies of the Islamic Republic. What defines me is not what the ruling system wanted me to be, but resistance, disobedience, and the ongoing effort to reclaim my body, my life, and my choices.

— Thinking about both history and the present day, which Iranian women do you see as significant role models, and why do they resonate with you?

— I begin by speaking of the women whose names I do not know. Women who, unlike the narratives that turn individuals into heroes, never had the opportunity to become icons, nor the safety to tell their stories. Women who, unnamed and unseen, have stood against oppression across Iran, not only in its center, whose voice has always been louder, but throughout the entire country. Women we may never come to know, yet whose presence and resistance give us strength.

I then speak of the women who, throughout the life of the Islamic Republic, have been killed for saying no to this repressive regime. They are countless. I do not know how to name them all or remember every face, but I know that we, the survivors, bear the responsibility of not forgetting their path and the meaning of their resistance.

I speak of Zeinab Jalalian, a Kurdish political prisoner who has spent approximately eighteen years in the prisons of the Islamic Republic and is serving a life sentence. Her body and her life stand as living testimony to the regime’s ongoing, systematic violence against women, minorities, and those who resist.

Finally, I speak of Vida Movahed. In 2017, she stood on an electricity utility box on Enghelab Street in Tehran and raised a white headscarf as a symbol of protest against compulsory hijab. A simple act, yet a radical one, that turned the female body into a language of political resistance.

These women matter to me because, despite every effort by the Islamic Republic to control, erase, and deny women, they stood up. They remind us that Iranian women, even under the most severe conditions of repression, can remain subjects of resistance.