Iran's streets are eerily silent, a stark contrast to the fervent cries of protest that once echoed through them. But beneath the surface, the revolution rages on, fueled by a collective determination to reclaim their country and its future.
Over 4,900 protesters have been killed, with many more feared dead or arrested since the anti-government protests began in late December. The death toll could be much higher, exceeding 16,500, according to credible reports from Iranian journalists. These numbers are staggering, yet they pale in comparison to the magnitude of the struggle that lies ahead.
The Islamic Republic's response to the uprising has been brutal and calculated. By cutting off the internet and severing communication, the regime has imposed a blackout that isolates the population and allows atrocities to unfold unseen. This is not crowd control; it is eradication.
Despite the information blackout, disturbing evidence has surfaced – images of body bags stacked in large numbers, protesters shot at close range, and others beaten to death. Families are being forced to pay to reclaim the bodies of loved ones, transforming grief itself into another instrument of state control. Investigations by Amnesty International and Human Rights Watch have alleged that security forces have raided hospitals, arresting the wounded and transferring them to detention centers where they face torture and forced confessions.
As executions, mass arrests, and disappearances take place beyond public view, families in the Iranian diaspora wait in agonizing uncertainty, unable to reach loved ones or access information. This is how the regime operates when it believes scrutiny has lifted, highlighting the importance of traditional media. When a government silences an entire nation, journalism becomes more than reporting – it's a lifeline and protection.
To truly support Iran, we need unrestricted internet access and technologies like Starlink to break censorship. We also need to amplify what social media has revealed, as well as what it can no longer transmit. The world must speak for the voiceless, whose suffering will be buried alongside the truth if their pleas are ignored.
Iran's struggle is a reminder that liberty must be defended wherever it is threatened, whether in Tehran or Minneapolis. As authoritarianism advances globally, this fight represents a beacon of hope for those who value freedom and human rights.
The Iran I know – the one from my family albums – stands shoulder to shoulder with visitors from around the world, dressed with ease and confidence, not rigid uniforms chanting "death to America." This is the nation's soul, which the regime's propaganda spectacle cannot silence. As an Iranian-American who has witnessed this contrast firsthand, I call these demonstrations a revolution, rooted in memory as much as rage.
Yet, beneath the machinery of the Islamic state, there exists a quiet generosity that reveals who Iranians are: kind and warm people who long to reconnect with the world that was pushed away from them. Their hospitality carries a message that the regime cannot censor – Iranians want to remember themselves and reclaim their country's future.
Less than two weeks after Khomeini assumed power in 1979, women took to the streets to protest his decree requiring the hijab to be worn. Twenty years later, students demonstrated against press censorship and called for liberalization and reforms. The Green Movement erupted in 2009 after election fraud shattered public trust. In 2019, protests spread amid economic collapse and corruption. Following the killing of 22-year-old Mahsa Amini, who died in police custody in 2022 after she was arrested for allegedly defying the hijab mandate, the Woman, Life, Freedom movement was ignited, and Amini's death became a global symbol of state cruelty.
Each uprising has been answered with unrestrained force. Security units have moved quickly, sweeping thousands into mass arrests, firing live rounds into crowds, and unleashing terror at the street level. But this moment is different. There is a steely clarity in this uprising. Iranians are no longer asking for reform; they are asserting ownership of their country, with young people raised under repression standing beside elders who remember freedom. Their unity is grounded not in outrage alone but in a conviction to reclaim their inheritance.
The struggle for a free Iran belongs to all who value freedom and human rights. It represents a beacon of hope for those who believe that liberty must be defended wherever it is threatened, whether in Tehran or Minneapolis.
Over 4,900 protesters have been killed, with many more feared dead or arrested since the anti-government protests began in late December. The death toll could be much higher, exceeding 16,500, according to credible reports from Iranian journalists. These numbers are staggering, yet they pale in comparison to the magnitude of the struggle that lies ahead.
The Islamic Republic's response to the uprising has been brutal and calculated. By cutting off the internet and severing communication, the regime has imposed a blackout that isolates the population and allows atrocities to unfold unseen. This is not crowd control; it is eradication.
Despite the information blackout, disturbing evidence has surfaced – images of body bags stacked in large numbers, protesters shot at close range, and others beaten to death. Families are being forced to pay to reclaim the bodies of loved ones, transforming grief itself into another instrument of state control. Investigations by Amnesty International and Human Rights Watch have alleged that security forces have raided hospitals, arresting the wounded and transferring them to detention centers where they face torture and forced confessions.
As executions, mass arrests, and disappearances take place beyond public view, families in the Iranian diaspora wait in agonizing uncertainty, unable to reach loved ones or access information. This is how the regime operates when it believes scrutiny has lifted, highlighting the importance of traditional media. When a government silences an entire nation, journalism becomes more than reporting – it's a lifeline and protection.
To truly support Iran, we need unrestricted internet access and technologies like Starlink to break censorship. We also need to amplify what social media has revealed, as well as what it can no longer transmit. The world must speak for the voiceless, whose suffering will be buried alongside the truth if their pleas are ignored.
Iran's struggle is a reminder that liberty must be defended wherever it is threatened, whether in Tehran or Minneapolis. As authoritarianism advances globally, this fight represents a beacon of hope for those who value freedom and human rights.
The Iran I know – the one from my family albums – stands shoulder to shoulder with visitors from around the world, dressed with ease and confidence, not rigid uniforms chanting "death to America." This is the nation's soul, which the regime's propaganda spectacle cannot silence. As an Iranian-American who has witnessed this contrast firsthand, I call these demonstrations a revolution, rooted in memory as much as rage.
Yet, beneath the machinery of the Islamic state, there exists a quiet generosity that reveals who Iranians are: kind and warm people who long to reconnect with the world that was pushed away from them. Their hospitality carries a message that the regime cannot censor – Iranians want to remember themselves and reclaim their country's future.
Less than two weeks after Khomeini assumed power in 1979, women took to the streets to protest his decree requiring the hijab to be worn. Twenty years later, students demonstrated against press censorship and called for liberalization and reforms. The Green Movement erupted in 2009 after election fraud shattered public trust. In 2019, protests spread amid economic collapse and corruption. Following the killing of 22-year-old Mahsa Amini, who died in police custody in 2022 after she was arrested for allegedly defying the hijab mandate, the Woman, Life, Freedom movement was ignited, and Amini's death became a global symbol of state cruelty.
Each uprising has been answered with unrestrained force. Security units have moved quickly, sweeping thousands into mass arrests, firing live rounds into crowds, and unleashing terror at the street level. But this moment is different. There is a steely clarity in this uprising. Iranians are no longer asking for reform; they are asserting ownership of their country, with young people raised under repression standing beside elders who remember freedom. Their unity is grounded not in outrage alone but in a conviction to reclaim their inheritance.
The struggle for a free Iran belongs to all who value freedom and human rights. It represents a beacon of hope for those who believe that liberty must be defended wherever it is threatened, whether in Tehran or Minneapolis.