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Iranian writers and artists from the ICORN network on protest, state repression, and hope

January 20, 2026
Photo:
Top left to right: Hamed Ainehvand (Credits: Ruhollah Hajat Nia); Atefe Asadi (Credits: Camilo Pachón); Nikan Khosravi (Credits: Camilla Norvoll); Mehdi Mousavi (Credits: Jón Bjarni Hjartarson); Hamed A. Nadoshan (Credits: Private); Arash Ilkhani (Credits: Private).

On 28 December 2025, protests over the state of the economy and the cost of living began in Iran and quickly spread nationwide, developing into a broader movement calling for the end of the regime. Nearly one month later, amid an internet and communications shutdown and a brutal crackdown on the protests, tens of thousands of people have been detained, injured, and killed. Iranian writers and artists from the ICORN network share their professional perspectives and personal reflections on the ongoing situation in their country.

MEHDI MOUSAVI

Mehdi Mousavi is an Iranian poet and one of the leading figures in the post-modern ghazal movement. In 2013, he was arrested for his work and sentenced to nine years in prison and 99 lashes. Having escaped from Iran, Mousavi arrived in Lillehammer in 2017, where he took up an ICORN residency.

‘I think there is no longer any need to explain what the Islamic Republic has done to the people of Iran.
Even though the internet has been cut across the country, the few videos that have managed to reach the outside world, and the minimum figure of 12,000 killed protesters, are enough to show the scale of the catastrophe.
The people of Iran are now living under the heaviest psychological burden imaginable. We still do not know how many of our friends and family members have been killed. Those who have managed to contact us say that if the repression and killings continue without international intervention, they will end their own lives—because they no longer have the emotional strength to go on.
But what was even more terrifying than the regime’s crimes was the silence of some artists, political activists, and media outlets, people for whom Middle Eastern lives seem to be nothing more than statistics. 12000 women, men, and children slaughtered in the most brutal ways mean nothing to them.
We had only seen such things in dystopian films: attacking hospitals, firing execution shots at wounded people, or spraying cars with machine guns and drones. Yet the Iranian regime has committed these crimes against humanity again and again—and even shut down the internet so that the people’s voices would not be heard. They set fire to a local market in the beautiful city of Rasht and stood on both sides of the flames, gunning down anyone who tried to escape. These are crimes against humanity. Whoever witnesses this and remains indifferent is, in my view, not only failing to be human, but is complicit in the crime.
Today I heard that two of my friends have been killed. There is no internet, no phone line through which I can even confirm this news, let alone mourn them properly. Like all Iranians, I am waiting for the intervention of all countries and international institutions to bring an end to this regime. Remember: a regime that treats its own people with such savagery will show no mercy to the people of other countries once it obtains nuclear weapons.
In hope of a world filled with peace, love, and friendship
Mehdi Mousavi
Lillehammer’

NIKAN KHOSRAVI & ARASH ILKHANI, CONFESS

Nikan 'Siyanor' Khosravi and Arash, ‘Chemical’, Ilkhani, are Iranian heavy metal musicians, songwriter, founders, and members of the band Confess. Their music focuses on socio-political issues, challenging authority and religion. Seen as transgressive and a target for the Iranian regime, the band were charged with ‘insulting religious sanctities’ and ‘spreading propaganda against the state’.

Nikan Khosravi and Arash Ilkhani arrived in Harstad, Norway in 2018 and 2019, respectively, where they were ICORN residents.

‘We stand with our people and condemn in the strongest possible terms the ongoing violence, repression, and brutal crimes committed against civilians. These acts are crimes against humanity. They are deliberate, systematic, and aimed at silencing a population that is demanding dignity, freedom, and the right to shape its own future.
Our solidarity is with the people of Iran and with the democratic forces within the opposition who have paid an enormous price for resisting tyranny. Their voices must not be erased, ignored, or replaced by louder narratives imposed from outside.
We urge the international community to support the Iranian people in their struggle for democracy through political pressure, accountability, and protection of human rights. This support must strengthen civil society and democratic movements, not undermine them.
We do not believe that foreign military intervention brings freedom or democracy. History has shown that such actions only deepen instability, increase bloodshed, and leave societies more fractured than before. Iran’s future must be decided by its own people.
Justice, freedom, and democracy cannot be bombed into existence. They grow through resistance, solidarity, and the courage of those who refuse to be silenced.
We will not be silent.
Nikan & Arash
CONFESS’

ATEFE ASADI

Atefe Asadi is a writer, editor, translator, and songwriter from Tehran, Iran. Her work is set in the context of Iranian society and addresses the country’s social, political, and religious issues, including gender, sexuality, and women’s rights while challenging conservatism, religion, war, and their consequences.

While in Iran, Asadi was under pressure due to her work and civic activities and was interrogated on numerous occasions. After the murder of Mahsa Amini, the situation intensified. Asadi was unable to continue her literary activity in Iran and was forced to close her social media accounts for months.

She was the ICORN resident in Hannover, 2022-2024.

‘Where do I even begin?
With the names. The names. The names and faces that march before my eyes—awake or asleep. Mobina, Rebin, Rubina, Sajad, Nazli, Ahmad, Zahra, Aida, Mansoureh…
From teenagers to the elderly, from laborers to doctors, people from every social class took to the streets. They shouted for their most basic human rights. They shouted for freedom. Everyone kept saying this time the streets were different. Everyone kept saying what was happening could not simply be called “protests,” that Iran is celebrating a revolution.
And then…
From here on, there is only blood. Blood and darkness. The internet blackout. Absolute darkness. Not just metaphorically—literally. They even cut the electricity so it would be easier to kill people.
The Islamic Republic surpassed even its own record in savagery. And Of course it was able to do so. No one has ever demanded accountability from this regime for the crimes it has committed. From Khavaran to Kuye Daneshgah disaster, from the Green Movement to Bloody November, from Woman, Life, Freedom until now and the massacre of 12,000 people in two days. Has anyone ever succeeded in bringing Islamic Republic officials to court and forcing them to answer for their crimes? No. I think the issue is simply that no one wants to. Because otherwise, it is impossible that the world is incapable of stopping this regime’s bloodlust. The same world that now condemns these killings, sanctions high-ranking officials, and says more slaughter must be prevented—where was it during those two blood-soaked days?!
I watch the videos and photos from the Kahrizak forensic center. Black body bags fill the place. I try to stop, but against my will I keep searching for a familiar face. I listen to the voice of families sobbing as they hold the bodies of their loved ones, and I search for the voice of my own family. I can’t stop. How many have I lost? How many have we lost? Where is my friend who escaped the batons the night before the internet was cut? Where is the friend who was going to the streets for the first time, because he was sure this time we would celebrate freedom?
Then my mother calls. Fifty seconds. She says our whole family is fine and I shouldn’t worry. Am I supposed to believe the steadiness in her voice when it’s choking with tears? She says they’ve killed so many. Alley after alley. She says they are going door to door, even collecting satellite dishes so people can’t listen to the news. She asks, Atefe, does the world know what’s happening to us? Are people still talking about Iran, or have they already forgotten us?
Then the line goes dead.
I don’t know how much blood is enough for Khamenei to feel satisfied. I don’t know how many of us Iranians must die before the world is willing to truly see us. I don’t know what number is enough to awaken the conscience of the international community. I don’t know how much we must pay so that even a fraction of the world’s selective humanity might include us too.
All I know is that I die with every piece of news, every moment.
I am killed by live ammunition in Tehranpars. I burn in the set-on-fire market of Rasht, alongside people whose exits have been sealed. In Ilam, I am a wounded patient on a hospital bed, then they come for me and shoot me. In Chenaran, I dare to hope help is coming, that I’m not alone, and I raise my clenched fist in the face of bullets. At Imam Ali School in Arak, I am a protester student surrounded by a military tank. In Shirvan, I disable the CCTV cameras in the street and end up in prison. In Abadan, a pellet round hits my eye and the world turns dark and bloody. In Heravi Square, I dance around a fire and a bullet settles into my chest. In Haft-Howz, I scream for freedom and I am riddled with gunfire. Every night, with every headline, in every corner of Iran, I am killed.’
Atefe Asadi, 15. Jan. 2026
Hannover, Germany’

HAMED A. NADOSHAN

Hamed A. Nadoshan is a writer, researcher, journalist, and radio producer. He is the winner of the Anil Ramdas Essay Prize 2023 in Dutch and the Best Screenplay Award at the First Mahsa Amini Screenwriting Festival 2025 in Persian. In 2018, he took up an ICORN residency in Rotterdam and has been living in the Netherlands since.

A true human is what I long for
The regime has shut down the internet and phone networks. For more than six days, I have had no news from Iran. People are traveling hundreds of kilometers to reach the Turkish border, just to access the internet and contact the outside world to tell their families they are still alive. This is not a post-apocalyptic storyline from an American television series. It is a snapshot of Iran today.
I am not shocked. This is a deeply familiar condition for me. From my childhood through adolescence, the Islamic regime erased every different voice and refused to let it be heard. I say “different,” not even “oppositional.” It reminds me of school, where we were forced to wear identical clothes and have identical haircuts. This was the grand dream of the ayatollahs: to manufacture human robots who think and behave the same way; much like the image of congregational prayer, large crowds facing one direction, bending and rising in perfect synchronization before a single authority.
But we were always something else. Behind closed doors, we lived different lives. We listened to different music, read different books, watched different films, and constantly looked back to the time before the Islamic Republic, to the era of the Shah, when people were not suffocated by this level of restriction.
When I left Iran in 2012, I believed I had stepped into a free world where I could finally present myself as I truly was. It did not take long to encounter another kind of dictatorship, one that is crushing and lethal in its own way: the dictatorship of the media. They, too, had—and still have—their red lines when it comes to Iran. The most important of them was alignment with the Islamic Republic’s propaganda about the Pahlavi era. They denied me and those who thought like me the right to speak. They labeled us in dangerous ways, making our exclusion appear justified.
Today, as I hear the voices of people inside Iran, carrying the national flag under live ammunition, chanting “Long live the Shah” and “Pahlavi returns,” I am reminded of all the soft bullets the media once fired at us.
Freedom has a high price.
People inside Iran are paying it with their blood and their lives. People like me pay it through exile and isolation. I once believed this struggle was between lovers of Iran and followers of Islam. Now the picture is clearer and far darker: on one side are those who want to remain human; on the other are monsters who survive by drinking the blood of others. At this point, there is no real difference between the ayatollah and those who censor the voices of the people under the banner of human rights. They stand on the same line.
I think of Iranian myths; stories in which light always defeats darkness, beauty overcomes ugliness, freedom triumphs over captivity, and humanity prevails over demons. Real life, unfortunately, does not follow myths. And I am afraid that once again the monsters may win; this time leaving no space for humans to survive at all.
I am tired of devils and beasts; a true human is what I long for. —Poem of Rumi

FARHAD BABAEI

Farhad Babaei is an award-winning writer, editor, and graphic designer from Iran. He holds a degree in Graphic Design and began writing in the late 1990s, starting with short stories and then expanding to other genres. His works have been published internationally, including in Germany, the UK, and Australia.

In Iran, Babaei faced to continuous censorship and harassment by the regime in Iran. Following the publication of his work abroad, Farhad faced increased threats and persecution and was blacklisted from publishing in Iran.

In October 2023, Farhad Babaei arrived in Bratislava for a one-year ICORN residency. In December 2024, Farhad Babaei began an ICORN residency in Berlin with the support of DAAD.

‘A man without ethics is a wild beast loosed upon this world." - Albert Camus
The hardest task is to search for words to write about the massacre of my own people, and also about a human tragedy, and I am profoundly incapable.
In the 21st century, during the so-called golden age of communications, the people of Iran are unable to connect with the world beyond their immediate surroundings. Meanwhile, right before their eyes, the Iranian dictatorship carries out widespread killings and repression.
The ground is red and soaked with blood, and the Iranian dictator, as always, thirsts for blood to survive and maintain his power; a power that, at the cost of ideology and religion, has blinded him, made him indifferent to human life, and allowed him to act in a totalitarian manner.
The dictator has always been this way: wherever he senses the decline of his power, he resorts to killing.
The history of the past half-century in Iran stands as undeniable evidence of the killings and repression carried out by the Ayatollahs and the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps. Every page of this bloody history testifies to the immense oppression inflicted upon the Iranian people. For at least the past forty years, every decade has witnessed widespread protests and civil movements against the dictatorial regime. Yet each time, the response has been nothing but killings, arrests, and countless executions. The Mahsa Amini uprising and the widespread protests against mandatory hijab, triggered by her murder, were the latest of these movements.
Over the past five years, the situation has taken a new form, with public protests becoming increasingly intense almost every year. Severe economic hardship, combined with the absence of freedom of expression and civil liberties, has made life increasingly difficult and constrained for ordinary Iranians. The regime has never been accountable to the people and has consistently failed to respond directly to their grievances. At the same time, it consistently claims that no one inside Iran is protesting and that everyone lives in comfort and happiness. The regime labels any form of public demonstration as “chaos” and interprets the presence of people in the streets as the work of enemies. The Iranian dictator has no understanding of the concept of protest, and to this day, he considers the entire population of Iran as agitators.
Under the current circumstances, undoubtedly one of the bloodiest periods in modern Iranian history, the scale of killings has reached alarming levels. The regime has cut off all telephone lines, the internet, and even landlines. As of today, it has been exactly ten days since all means of communication from within Iran to the outside world were severed. Reports indicate that, so far, twelve thousand people have been killed across Iran, with thousands more arrested.
Families living outside Iran have no means of contact with their relatives, friends, and loved ones inside the country. It remains unknown what crimes the regime is committing within the huge cage it has created out of a large, civilized nation with thousands of years of history and culture.
From the past until today, the people of Iran have constantly struggled with severe economic hardship, extremely high inflation that rises daily, and a national currency whose value steadily declines. As a result, they see the streets and street protests as the only way to address their problems. The voice of the majority is the same: the dictator must go. A cancerous tumor that has metastasized across Iran through its repressive arms-censorship and violence, and that sends countless people to their deaths every day, has no fate other than destruction.
Tragically, what is happening in Iran is far darker and more painful than words can fully express. The events unfolding in Iran today represent the collapse of human dignity in an age of space exploration, advanced technology, and a supposedly free and uncensored world. In such an era, Iran is trapped in regression, totalitarianism, and the intellectual decay of its dictatorship. Where human freedom is under threat and human blood is being shed, we know that we will never be the same as before. Sadly and painfully, the human mind never empties itself of this reality; the brain continues to sound an alarm from within us until the moment of death. Whatever this condition may be called, it is not life or civilization; it is the decline of humanity.
It is this erosion of humanity that leaves innocent people, wherever they are in the world, ashamed of merely surviving and condemned to suffering.
I call upon all ICORN artists and journalists, as well as human rights activists within the ICORN network, to become, each in their own capacity, a free and independent media voice for the people of Iran. By amplifying hashtags related to the Iranian revolution and popular protests, help them carry their voices to the people of the world.
I call upon the international community, the United Nations, human rights organizations, human rights defenders, all governments, and the peoples of other countries who those for whom human life and human freedom matter and are a priority, as well as all freedom-loving individuals, artists, and journalists, to be the voice of the people of Iran and not to abandon them. Follow the news from Iran and keep global attention focused on Iran’s freedom-seeking people.
Behind those sealed borders, blocked by the invisible walls of censorship and severed communication, millions of families and millions of children are struggling to survive.
The pace of killing and repression carried out by Iran’s dictator, Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, has accelerated dramatically. Given his long record of shedding the blood of the people over previous years, he now shows no fear of spilling even more blood.
The Iranian regime has mutilated the great beauty of the Iranian people in the most brutal manner. Yet the united people of Iran are determined to drive this regime out of existence, or, more precisely, to cast the dictator aside.
The dictator embodies totalitarianism and is incapable of dialogue or reform; instead, he will be overthrown with astonishing speed.
Let us be the voice of the Iranian people.
January 2026 – Berlin’

HAMED AINEHVAND

Hamed Ainehvand is a journalist, researcher, writer, and political activist. During more than a decade of his journalistic career, Ainehvand has written for many newspapers in various fields of domestic and foreign policy.

Ainehvand was arrested on multiple occasions. In 2018, he was detained on charges of propaganda against the system and community, and collusion with the intention of acting against national security.  

In August 2023, Ainehvand took up the ICORN residency in Ljubljana, Slovenia. He continues working with international media outlets such as Voice of America and BBC Persian.

The Islamic Republic and the Brutal Suppression of a Revolution
From the 1979 Revolution to the Establishment of Religious Authoritarianism
The complex political and security structure governing Iran represents a form of authoritarianism previously observed in the former Soviet bloc. The fundamental difference, however, lies in its ideological foundation: rather than Marxism, Shiite ideology with an apocalyptic interpretation, embedded in the theoretical framework of the Absolute Guardianship of the Jurist (Velayat-e Faqih), has become the basis for the formation and continuation of power. Domestically, this system relies on political Islam, while internationally it has made confrontation with the United States and Western values the core of its foreign policy. The Islamic Republic’s ummah-centered foreign policy—emphasizing the destruction of Israel and the formation of an “Axis of Resistance” to liberate Palestine—stands in direct contradiction to the national interests of the majority of Iranian citizens.
Undoubtedly, the monarchy’s authoritarian nature, the absence of elite circulation, and the economic crises of the late Pahlavi era—partly resulting from “Dutch disease”—were among the structural factors that paved the way for the 1979 revolution. However, the decisive factor in the revolution’s success was a temporary consensus among diverse, even opposing, political forces around a single shared demand: “The Shah must go.” Many revolutionary forces, including leftist groups, the Mojahedin-e Khalq Organization, and nationalist forces that played active roles in the revolution, were eliminated by the ruling clergy shortly after the revolution’s victory.
The Iran–Iraq War enabled the clergy to fully monopolize power. By mobilizing forces under the banner of national defense, the ruling establishment simultaneously pursued the systematic elimination of all rival political currents. As a result, after the war, the country came under the complete domination of the clergy and its military partner, the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC).
The End of Reforms and the Rise of Structural Repression
With the IRGC’s official entry into Iran’s economy after the war, during Akbar Hashemi Rafsanjani’s presidency, ideologically driven military forces under Ali Khamenei’s leadership entered a new phase. Over time, the IRGC became the most powerful political, security, and economic actor in the country. After thwarting reforms during Mohammad Khatami's presidency, the institution played a decisive role in the 2009 electoral coup, preventing Mir-Hossein Mousavi from assuming power. Mousavi had declared his intention to reform the political system, return the IRGC to the barracks, and confine the clergy's role to religious institutions.
The 2009 electoral coup, the suppression of the Green Movement, and the house arrest of its leaders effectively eliminated any possibility of reforming the political system from within. Subsequent experiences along this path—including the governments of Hassan Rouhani and Massoud Pezeshkian—amounted to little more than weak, unsuccessful repetitions of earlier efforts. These governments openly sided with the IRGC during the November 2019 killings and the January 2026 protests.
Since at least June 1997, the “hard core of power” in the Islamic Republic—comprising Ali Khamenei as Supreme Leader for life, the IRGC, and an extensive network of affiliated institutions—has faced sustained pressure from the majority of society to relinquish power. A significant share of reformist demands sought to weaken or dismantle this concentration of authority. However, from 2017 onward, as hope for reform within the existing system collapsed, the slogan “Reformists, hardliners—the game is over” became the dominant discourse of protest movements, and structurally transformative movements gained strength.
The January 2018 protests in response to currency devaluation, the bloody November 2019 protests following the tripling of fuel prices, and the “Woman, Life, Freedom” movement of September 2022 against the compulsory hijab all shared a common feature: deep disillusionment with reform and a growing inclination to move beyond the system itself. In a context where political organization, party activity, student movements, labor unions, professional associations, and the free flow of information have been severely obstructed, these protests were met with organized, violent repression.
The scale of repression during this period is not comparable to earlier episodes. With the Iranian government cutting off the internet and severing communication with the outside world, precise casualty figures are extremely difficult to obtain. Nevertheless, based on reports and unofficial estimates published by media outlets and human rights organizations, the number of those killed is estimated to be between twelve and twenty thousand. Despite the difficulty of verifying these figures, there is no doubt that the pattern of repression has fundamentally changed from the past.
The Militarization of Repression and the Pattern of Mass Killing
Accounts emerging from within the country present a consistent picture: a combination of terror stemming from the scale of killings, a sense of absolute helplessness, and appeals for international assistance. These narratives indicate that protesters perceive themselves as facing what they describe as “crimes against humanity”—a situation they believe cannot be halted without external intervention.
The scale of the killings has been so extensive that existing infrastructure, designed for normal circumstances, has been unable to handle the situation. Accounts from Tehran’s Behesht Zahra cemetery describe hangars filled with stacked bodies. These accounts describe thousands of corpses stored over short periods and the use of refrigerated trucks to transport bodies.
Videos from cities such as Mashhad and Karaj show detainees being transferred to detention centers by inhumane methods, including confinement in car trunks and mass transport by bus. Some reports detail the nature of injuries: direct gunfire, widespread use of pellet ammunition, shots targeting vital parts of the body, and even final shots fired at wounded protesters in the streets.
Among the most alarming reports are accounts of deliberate obstruction of medical treatment for the wounded. According to accounts from the city of Shahsavar, security forces not only prevented the treatment of injured individuals at Rajaei Hospital but also allowed some to die within medical facilities. These actions go beyond medical negligence and constitute a deliberate strategy of physical elimination. Under international law and the Geneva Conventions, such practices amount to “willful killing” and the infliction of severe suffering through the systematic denial of essential medical care.
This pattern, often described as the “militarization of the healthcare system,” was previously observed during the Syrian civil war. This comparison is not meant to imply complete equivalence but to highlight similarities in methods of repression. Organizations such as Physicians for Human Rights and the UN Human Rights Council have extensively documented these practices.
Regime Survival in the Absence of Political Legitimacy
The intensity of repression during Iran’s recent revolutionary movement exceeds even the most pessimistic analytical scenarios. The movement began with strikes by Tehran’s merchants protesting the sharp depreciation of the national currency and quickly spread nationwide. Following the merchants’ lead, a broad spectrum of opposition groups—including youth, women, students, teachers, and workers—joined the protests.
On January 8 and 9, scattered demonstrations escalated into mass gatherings of thousands across Iran’s cities, taking on a revolutionary character. These developments indicate that the killing of unarmed, peaceful protesters has become the regime’s last resort for survival.
For years, the Islamic Republic has lost its legitimacy due to structural corruption, a lack of honesty in its engagement with society, and resource distribution based on patronage. Governance, beyond repression, requires a minimum level of social stability and hope for the future—two elements the Iranian government can no longer provide. Under such conditions, reliance on military force alone is insufficient to sustain power and cannot guarantee the regime’s survival, even in the medium term.
The Prospect of Collapse and the Question of Leadership in the Transitional Period
The Islamic Republic has squandered numerous opportunities for a peaceful transfer of power. Figures such as Mostafa Tajzadeh, a number of republican political activists, and Mir-Hossein Mousavi have repeatedly emphasized the need for a peaceful transition through a referendum and the formation of a constituent assembly. However, in the absence of a concrete mechanism to shift the balance of power, the ruling establishment has completely disregarded these demands.
Reducing Iran’s crisis solely to Ali Khamenei is also misleading. The structure of power in Iran is mafia-like, consisting of an intertwined network of economic and security interests. Even if the current leader were removed, this network would obstruct any democratic transition that threatened its interests.
In this context, following the brutal suppression of the “Woman, Life, Freedom” movement, efforts were made to build political coalitions among opponents of the Islamic Republic. Reza Pahlavi, as one of the most recognizable figures in the opposition, drew the attention of segments of public opinion. However, his withdrawal from the so-called “Georgetown” coalition signaled a preference for a “everyone with me” approach over inclusive cooperation among diverse opposition forces.
The window of opportunity for Reza Pahlavi to play a leadership role in Iran’s protests can remain open only if he can encompass a broad spectrum of opponents of the Islamic Republic, most of whom do not advocate the restoration of monarchy and, according to various estimates, constitute the majority of society. Although he has repeatedly stated that he would assume leadership only during the transitional period and that the future political system would be determined by a referendum, the behavior of some of his advisors and close associates—including hostile and dismissive treatment of critics—has raised serious doubts about this camp’s practical commitment to democratic principles.
These critiques do not negate Reza Pahlavi’s potential to mobilize segments of public opinion; rather, they highlight the structural challenges of inclusive leadership during a transition away from an authoritarian system. The totality of domestic and international conditions indicates that the Islamic Republic has entered a phase from which a return to the previous “normal” state is no longer possible—even if the regime succeeds in brutally suppressing a revolution in the short term.
The Role of the United States and the International Opportunity
Analysis of the unprecedented killing of unarmed protesters in Iran’s streets—carried out amid a complete internet shutdown—and of Ali Khamenei’s insistence on demonstrably false narratives of “American and Israeli conspiracies” indicates that the Islamic Republic is no longer capable of continuing its political life in a normal form. The situation will not revert to its previous state, and the regime has entered a phase of structural crisis in which the reproduction of stability appears impossible.
In this context, recent statements by the President of the United States calling for the “search for new leadership in Iran,” along with a shift in tone among American officials toward the Islamic Republic, are particularly significant. These positions, together with calls from segments of Iranian public opinion and various political and cultural figures for humanitarian intervention, suggest that the Iranian question has entered a new phase on the international agenda.
At the same time, domestic and regional conditions have dramatically narrowed the space for the Islamic Republic. Beyond Iran’s borders, its proxy forces have either been dismantled or had their operational capacity significantly reduced following developments after October 7. Inside the country, following the collapse of the regime’s aura of power during the twelve-day war and the end of compulsory hijab enforcement after the “Woman, Life, Freedom” movement, an unprecedented convergence has emerged among diverse opposition groups around the necessity of moving beyond the Islamic Republic.
U.S. military movements in the region, together with the positions adopted by some European leaders, reinforce the assessment that the Islamic Republic is facing one of the most critical moments in its history. Even if the regime suppresses a revolution through brutal force in the short term, the erosion of authority, international isolation, and governance deadlock have severely constrained its prospects for survival. Under such conditions, the opportunity to end one of the most repressive political systems of the contemporary era is greater than ever.