I write this not only as a journalist, but as someone born in Iran, fluent in Farsi, who lived through the revolution and the Iran–Iraq war, and who understands the language of fear the state has used for nearly half a century to control daily life. What is happening now cannot be understood without confronting the full weight of that history.

A System Built on Fear, Not Consent

For 47 years, the Islamic Republic of Iran has maintained control through repression that is not episodic, but systemic. International human rights organizations and United Nations investigators have repeatedly documented widespread violations: censorship, torture, discrimination, and the use of extreme punishment as a method of governance. Dissent has not merely been discouraged — it has been criminalized in ways that are difficult for Western audiences to fully grasp.

Iranian authorities routinely subject detainees to torture, prolonged solitary confinement, sensory deprivation, denial of medical care, beatings, flogging, and sexual assault. Forced “confessions” extracted under duress are regularly used in trials that fall far short of international standards. People die in custody. Investigations are rare. Accountability is rarer.

The Islamic Penal Code still permits punishments that amount to torture under international law, including flogging, amputation, blinding, and, in statute, stoning and crucifixion. These are not symbolic laws. Variations of them are carried out in practice.

The death penalty as a tool of control

Iran is one of the world’s most prolific executioners. In 2024 alone, at least 975 people were executed, the highest number reported since 2015. Many were sentenced for crimes that do not meet the international threshold of “most serious crimes,” including drug-related offenses. Ethnic minorities are disproportionately affected.

The death penalty is also used as a political weapon. Protesters and dissidents are charged under vague national security laws and fast-tracked through the judicial system. Executions are meant not only to punish, but to warn.

Although President Trump told reporters in Washington that “Iran canceled the hanging of over 800 people,” on Friday, Associated Press reported that a senior hard-line cleric called for the death penalty for detained demonstrators and directly threatened President Trump.

I grew up hearing stories of people disappearing. Of families learning that a loved one had been executed only when a bag of clothes was delivered to their door. Mothers never told where their children were buried—later learning they were placed in mass graves, denied even the dignity of mourning. Fear was not incidental. It was cultivated.

Why people are still protesting

Understanding that history is essential to understanding the human side of what is happening.

In my professional assessment—this is analysis, not assertion—today’s protests are not about reform or incremental change. They are about regime change.

People are not risking death for better economic conditions. They are risking everything for the possibility that the current system itself could be dismantled.

Opposition movements in authoritarian states do not function the way they do in democracies. Leadership, coordination, and messaging often operate across borders because they must. The Iranian diaspora plays a critical role in amplifying calls to action, translating footage, sustaining momentum, and ensuring that what happens inside Iran is seen by the world.

Many protesters responded to calls to action from opposition figures outside the country, most prominently Reza Pahlavi, the son of the exiled former monarch, who has publicly urged coordinated protests and positioned himself not as a future ruler but as a transitional figure advocating a democratic referendum. Whether one supports him or not, the response inside Iran was real.

As a Farsi speaker who understands protest rhetoric, I know that chants are not just slogans — they are political signals. For the first time since 1979, people in the streets — not just in Tehran — but in the more conservative cities — chanted “Javid Shah,” long live the king. When those nuances are flattened in translation, international audiences miss what protesters are actually saying, what is their intent, and what they are willing to die for.

International signals—and their consequences

It would be incomplete not to acknowledge the effect of international rhetoric. Statements by U.S. leaders, including President Donald Trump, were widely interpreted by Iranians as encouragement that the regime’s grip might not be permanent. Many protesters took those words seriously and paid for with their lives.

More recently, the tone has shifted toward caution and diplomatic restraint. That may be defensible at the policy level. But on the ground, the consequences are immediate. Protesters are still being shot. People are still being arrested. Families are still waiting for loved ones who may never come home.

Those risks are borne entirely by ordinary people.

Censorship as a weapon

Another critical reality often missed in international coverage is how thoroughly the regime controls what people inside Iran are allowed to know.

I have experienced this personally as a journalist. During earlier protest waves, after receiving verified reports or footage from abroad, I would call sources inside Iran to ask what they were seeing. More than once, the answer was the same: they had no idea what I was talking about. Protests were happening only miles away, sometimes in neighboring cities, but because state-run media does not report unrest, people nearby were left completely unaware.

This isolation is deliberate.

Authorities routinely cut or throttle internet access during protests, blocking social media, messaging platforms, and even basic connectivity. Satellite television is jammed. VPN use is criminalized. Digital rights organizations have documented repeated nationwide shutdowns designed to stop people from gathering, organizing, or even understanding the scale of what is happening.

The regime’s control of information extends beyond silence to distortion. Amid nationwide protests, state media and affiliated online networks have circulated misleading or out-of-context content—including AI-generated footage and old images—to exaggerate pro-government rallies and project an image of popular support that independent reporting cannot verify.

Women, minorities, and everyday terror

For women and girls, repression is not theoretical—it is daily life. Women are legally treated as second-class citizens, facing systemic discrimination in marriage, divorce, custody, employment, and inheritance. Enforcement of compulsory hijab laws varies and carries penalties ranging from fines to imprisonment and physical abuse.

As a child, I was afraid to walk outside. I heard stories of women being grabbed off the street and disappearing because something about their clothing displeased the morality police. One of the most traumatic memories of that era was hearing about acid attacks—women disfigured to “teach a lesson,” not necessarily because they were uncovered, but because something about their appearance was deemed unacceptable. The message was unmistakable: your body does not belong to you.

That cruelty did not disappear with time. It evolved.

In September 2022, Mahsa Amini died in police custody after being arrested for an “improper hijab.” Evidence pointed to fatal head injuries. Authorities claimed pre-existing medical conditions. Her family denied it. The protests that followed—under the banner of Woman, Life, Freedom—reignited a nationwide reckoning. I told the story of the diaspora fighting to give the movement a voice.

Punishing families, even in death

The regime’s cruelty often extends beyond the dead.

There have been consistent reports of families being forced to pay exorbitant sums—sometimes described as “fees for bullets”—to retrieve the bodies of relatives killed during protests. Amounts reportedly range from several hundred to more than a thousand U.S. dollars, unaffordable for many.

Families are pressured to sign false statements claiming their loved ones died of natural causes or were killed by “rioters.” Some are told that if they agree to have the deceased posthumously registered as a member of the Basij paramilitary force, the body may be released without payment. Funerals are restricted, rushed, and monitored to prevent mourning from turning into protest.

This is psychological warfare.

That sense of fear is not abstract to me, and it is not confined to the streets. It surfaced again recently while watching It Was Just an Accident, a 2025 thriller written and directed by acclaimed Iranian filmmaker Jafar Panahi. The film follows a group of former Iranian political prisoners who confront a man they believe once tortured them, forcing them to wrestle with the lingering trauma of captivity, memory, and the moral ambiguity of revenge in a society shaped by oppression.

The ending left me shaken—not because it was sensational, but because it was familiar. It awakened memories from my childhood in Iran: the bone-chilling certainty that you are never truly safe, that at any moment something arbitrary, violent, or irreversible can happen—and there will be no recourse. That is the internal landscape many Iranians live with. When protests erupt, they are not driven only by anger, but by years of accumulated fear, trauma, and the knowledge that silence has never guaranteed survival.

Why context matters

When international coverage reduces this moment to generic unrest, it does not paint the full picture—when it documents violence without fully explaining why people knowingly face it — the result is dehumanization. Death tolls become numbers. Arrests become statistics. The extraordinary courage of people protesting under these conditions is flattened into abstraction.

People in Iran are not protesting casually. They are doing so knowing that execution, torture, or collective punishment may follow. They are doing so because, for the first time in a generation, hope has outweighed fear.

In my view, as a journalist with lived experience of this system, failing to convey the full depth of that reality does more than misinform. It dehumanizes.

A note on perspective

This article reflects my professional judgment and informed opinion, grounded in first person reports from people inside and outside of Iran, documented human rights reporting and shaped by personal experience growing up under this regime. It is not an endorsement of any political figure. It is a call for completeness, context, and humanity.

If we do not tell the whole story—if we allow omission to stand in for neutrality—we risk misunderstanding not only Iran, but the immense price its people are paying to imagine a different future.

Los Angeles, CA — Iran’s government effectively severed life-line communications and public services Friday as nationwide protests intensified, cutting off internet, phone and banking systems and grounding flights, according to our sources in Iran, in what is one of the most sweeping attempts to disrupt civilian infrastructure in the nation’s recent unrest.

The disruptions came after protesters inside the country responded to a call for synchronized demonstrations issued by exiled crown prince Reza Pahlavi, turning an economic uprising into a broader political challenge to the Islamic Republic.

Authorities shut down internet access across the nation Thursday night, and landline and mobile phone networks were also disabled in many areas, according to Inclusive Voices Project sources. The online banking system stopped functioning, leaving Iranians unable to access their money, and both domestic and international flights were canceled or grounded as of Friday, according to our sources.

“Iranians demanded their freedom tonight,” Pahlavi said in a statement after communications were cut. “In response, the regime in Iran has cut all lines of communication.”

His call had urged people to chant at precisely 8 p.m. local time from their homes and streets, a tactic designed to amplify voice and solidarity even as state security structures attempted to isolate the population.

Internet monitoring organizations report nationwide shutdown targeting multiple networks, a tactic Iran has used in past protests to disrupt coordination and hinder global reporting.

The grounding of flights affected both domestic and international routes, with non-Iranian carriers canceling services between Tehran and destinations including Istanbul and Dubai, according to airport tracking services.

Protests, which began in late December amid soaring inflation and the collapse of the Iranian rial, have rapidly expanded nationwide, with demonstrators shouting slogans against the Islamic Republic and, in some cases, calling for an end to clerical rule and chanting the name of Pahlavi.

In several cities, chanting included “Death to the dictator!” and “Death to the Islamic Republic!” — slogans that reflect the widening political scope of the unrest and have historically carried severe penalties under Iran’s penal code.

Supreme Leader Ayatollah Ali Khamenei denounced the protests in remarks carried on state media, accusing protesters of acting on behalf of foreign powers and warning that the government would not yield to what it described as “mercenary” violence.

Government speakers also threatened harsher consequences for protesters, including potential legal penalties for property damage and “terrorist acts,” indicating a possible escalation in the crackdown.

International reactions were swift. France, Britain and Germany issued a joint statement condemning violence against demonstrators and urging Iranian authorities to allow peaceful protest and freedom of expression.

U.S. President Donald Trump warned Iran’s leadership against the use of lethal force and signaled support for peaceful demonstrators.

The unrest represents one of the most significant challenges to the Islamic Republic since the nationwide protests that followed the death of Mahsa Amini in 2022, and may be the largest public demonstration of national discontent since the 1979 revolution that brought the current system to power.

Iranians in the diaspora have held solidarity demonstrations and are using satellite internet and other channels to share information and coordinate advocacy, even as domestic communications remain shut down.

In a video message posted to social media around 9 p.m. Pacific time Tuesday, Pahlavi — the son of Iran’s last monarch — addressed soldiers and security personnel directly, framing the moment as a historic turning point. Within minutes, the post drew thousands of comments, many repeating the slogan “Javid Shah,” or “Long live the King,” a chant increasingly heard at protests inside Iran, according to hundreds of videos circulating online.

“This is your final opportunity to join the nation and separate your fate from the sinking ship of the Islamic Republic,” Pahlavi said in the message, portions of which were shared widely by Iranian activists and diaspora groups. He urged security forces not to fire on protesters but to protect them, saying those who stand with the people would be “respected and honored nationally.”

Pahlavi, who has positioned himself as a unifying figure rather than a claimant to power, reiterated that he is calling for the end of the Islamic Republic of Iran and a transition to a secular system chosen by Iranians themselves.

Calls to Action and Growing Unrest

The message followed an earlier statement in which Pahlavi called on Iranians to take coordinated action on Thursday and Friday, January 8th and 9th, beginning precisely at 8 p.m., whether in the streets or from their homes. He said future calls to action would depend on the public response.

The protests, which began in late December at Tehran’s Grand Bazaar, were initially sparked by another sharp drop in the value of the rial and soaring inflation. They have since spread to dozens of cities and towns, with demonstrators chanting slogans against Iran’s clerical leadership and, in some cases, openly calling for regime change.

According to the U.S.-based Human Rights Activists News Agency (HRANA), at least 36 people have been killed in the past 10 days, the majority of them protesters. HRANA also reported more than 2,000 arrests and dozens of injuries. Iranian authorities have not released an official death toll.

The BBC reported that demonstrations have reached 27 of Iran’s 31 provinces, with university students, shopkeepers and workers joining the unrest. Security forces have responded with tear gas, water cannons and, in some cases, live ammunition, according to videos and witness accounts cited by international media.

Arrests of Minors and Internet Shutdowns

Rights groups and activists say the crackdown has increasingly targeted minors. Reports circulating on social media and among diaspora networks indicate that children under 18 have been detained for participating in protests, with families pressured into silence through threats or promises of reduced sentences.

At the same time, activists say authorities have imposed near-total internet shutdowns in parts of the country to prevent images and videos of the protests from reaching the outside world — a tactic Iran has used during previous waves of unrest.

Footage shared online shows unidentified canisters fired into crowds, small explosions, and protesters continuing to chant “Javid Shah” and “Death to Khamenei,” even as security forces advanced. Other videos show women — including some wearing hijabs — openly chanting against the regime.

Official Responses and International Attention

Iran’s judiciary chief, Ghulam Hossein Mohseni Ajei, said security forces were dealing with protesters “tactically,” according to IranWire, while making no mention of weapons or injuries. State media have largely downplayed the scale of the crackdown.

President Masoud Pezeshkian acknowledged that the crisis was straining the government’s capacity, saying in a televised address that officials should not expect the state to manage the situation alone. He ordered an investigation into reports that security forces fired on protesters in Ilam province and raided a hospital treating the wounded.

The Associated Press reported that the raid drew condemnation from the U.S. State Department, which described attacks on hospitals and medical staff as potential crimes against humanity.

International scrutiny has intensified as the death toll rises. U.N. Secretary-General António Guterres said he was “deeply saddened” by reports of deaths and injuries and called on Iranian authorities to allow peaceful protest.

Echoes of Past Uprisings

Iran has experienced repeated waves of unrest over the past half-century, from the 1979 revolution that brought the clerical establishment to power, to the 2009 Green Movement, the 2019 gasoline protests, and the 2022 demonstrations sparked by the death of Mahsa Amini in morality police custody. Each has been met with force, mass arrests and, at times, internet blackouts.

What distinguishes the current protests, analysts say, is the convergence of economic collapse, visible defections reported by activists, and increasingly explicit calls for the end of the Islamic Republic — themes reflected in Pahlavi’s messaging.

As Iranians prepare for the next round of coordinated protests, the question Pahlavi posed to Iran’s security forces — “on which side of history will you stand?” — is reverberating far beyond social media, into the streets, bazaars and universities of a country once again at a crossroads.

As protests continue across Iran, thousands of miles away from Tehran, Iranians in exile gathered last week outside a federal building in Beverly Hills, watching developments unfold in real time — phones in hand, eyes fixed on events inside a country many fled but never stopped following.

Wrapped in Iranian flags, demonstrators listened as Beverly Hills Mayor Sharona Nazarian, herself born in Iran, addressed the crowd. She spoke of exile, repression and the enduring ties many in the diaspora feel to family and friends inside Iran, where demonstrations driven by economic collapse and political anger have spread across dozens of cities.

Similar gatherings took place in 88 other cities worldwide, reflecting the intensity with which Iranians outside the country are tracking a moment defined by uncertainty — and by forces both inside and far beyond Iran’s borders.

Diaspora as Witness to a Volatile Moment

For Iranians abroad, the protests have become a near-constant focus. Demonstrators overseas have echoed chants heard inside Iran and closely monitored Iranian state television, social media posts and international reporting.

That attention sharpened after news broke that Venezuelan President Nicolás Maduro, a longtime ally of Tehran, had been arrested by U.S. forces. While the episode occurred half a world away, it quickly entered Iran’s domestic conversation.

The Associated Press reported that Iranian state media swiftly condemned the U.S. operation, portraying it as illegal and destabilizing. At the same time, the episode has prompted widespread discussion inside Iran about regional security, leadership vulnerability and the broader implications of U.S. intervention abroad.

How Venezuela Entered Iran’s Debate

The focus on Venezuela emerged as Iran faces renewed unrest sparked by a collapsing rial, inflation nearing 40% and long-simmering grievances against the ruling clerical establishment. Demonstrations that began at Tehran’s Grand Bazaar have since spread nationwide, with protesters chanting against Iran’s leadership and security forces responding with arrests, force and internet disruptions.

Against that backdrop, Venezuelan developments took on outsized significance. On Iranian state television, an analyst claimed — without providing evidence — that the United States and Israel had previously considered kidnapping Iranian officials. Even in Iran’s tightly controlled media environment, the claim stood out.

At prayers at Tehran University, a cleric urged worshippers to pray for the safety of Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei, citing concerns for his life.

Some of those broadcasts and remarks cited by the AP were also independently monitored and translated by Inclusive Voices Network contributor Silva Harapetian, a native Farsi speaker born in Iran and later left the country following the 1979 revolution — underscoring how diaspora monitoring has become an essential channel for understanding public messaging inside the country as access for foreign journalists remains limited.

Leadership Under Heightened Pressure

Iran’s reaction comes after a year of mounting strain on its leadership. During a 12-day conflict last year, Israel killed several senior Iranian military commanders and nuclear scientists, while the United States bombed Iranian nuclear enrichment sites. Since then, Khamenei, 86, has made limited public appearances, and Iranian officials have acknowledged heightened security concerns.

Analysts interviewed by the AP cautioned against drawing direct parallels between Iran and Venezuela. Iran is geographically larger, possesses a far more extensive military and security apparatus, and retains fissile nuclear material — factors that complicate any external action.

Farzin Nadimi, a senior fellow at the Washington Institute for Near East Policy, told the AP that any consideration of a Venezuela-style operation against Iran would involve significant risks and long-term consequences, noting the need to calculate “the day after” in a far more complex political landscape.

Protests Persist Inside Iran

Meanwhile, unrest inside Iran has shown little sign of abating. The U.S.-based Human Rights Activists News Agency reported that at least 36 people have been killed during the latest wave of protests and more than 2,000 arrested. Iranian rarely ever release accurate official nationwide figures.

Activists say security forces have detained protesters, including minors, and pressured families to remain silent. Internet slowdowns and shutdowns across several provinces have further obscured events, making independent verification difficult and increasing reliance on state broadcasts, diaspora monitoring and international reporting.

U.S. Political Rhetoric Draws Attention in Tehran

As Iranians grappled with developments at home and abroad, U.S. political messaging added another layer of scrutiny. Over the weekend, U.S. Sen. Lindsey Graham was photographed aboard Air Force One with President Donald Trump, presenting him with a black hat emblazoned with the slogan “Make Iran Great Again.”

Graham later appeared on Fox News, where he said he hoped 2026 would be the year the United States helps “make Iran great again,” framing Iran’s unrest as a moment of potential change. Images of the meeting and excerpts from the interview circulated widely on Iranian media and social platforms.

U.S. President Donald Trump warned that the United States would respond if Iranian authorities “violently kill peaceful protesters.” Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu referenced the unrest in Iran, saying the country could be approaching a decisive moment.

Iran’s Foreign Ministry rejected those statements, describing them as incitement and interference in domestic affairs.

A Shared Moment of Uncertainty

For Iranians outside the country, the convergence of protests at home, events in Venezuela and escalating international rhetoric has underscored both connection and distance. Demonstrators abroad can gather, speak openly and monitor developments, but the consequences of escalation — arrests, violence or further crackdowns — fall overwhelmingly on those inside Iran.

In cities across the United States and Europe, diaspora communities have rallied in recent weeks in solidarity with protesters inside Iran. Chants heard in Tehran — including “Javid Shah,” or “Long live the king” — have echoed at demonstrations abroad, reflecting renewed visibility for exiled opposition figures Reza Pahlavi the son of Iran’s last monarch. Pahlavi released a statement on his social media account. addressing soldiers and security personnel directly, framing the moment as a historic turning point.

As protests continue and global attention intensifies, the outcome remains uncertain. What is clear is that this moment is being experienced not only in Tehran’s streets, but across a worldwide Iranian community, bound together by language, memory and a shared, nail-biting watch over what comes next.