This text is not addressed to the republican and pluralist pro-democracy voices on social media (especially Instagram and X) who, sincerely and tirelessly—despite pain, suffering, exhaustion, and burnout—continue the honorable work of reporting, raising awareness, expressing solidarity, offering help, and injecting hope, motivation, and thought into Iranian society both in the diaspora and inside Iran. Before all these friends, I bow in respect and wish them ever-greater strength.
In fact, this piece is my appeal to the well-known republican1, pro-democracy, and leftist elites in the diaspora—the anti-authoritarian opposition figures who are fully recognized by the media. I hold all their efforts in deep regard, and if my words are sharp or at times edged with reproach, take them as a painful confession, a provocation, and a wake-up call.
On the brink of a possible war, on the threshold of collapse or some form of managed transition within the Islamic Republic, at a time when the fate of tens of thousands of detainees and political prisoners is a source of grave concern for all of us, the real anti-authoritarian opposition—diverse, broad, and potentially powerful—finds itself fragmented, trapped in rivalries, or afflicted by a form of moral grandiosity. A vast cohort of humble, young republicans, lacking initiative, creativity, and worthy leadership (leadership here meaning mentorship) from the previous generation, and deprived of figures capable of placing their technical competence at the service of the cause in the digital age, has fallen into a paralyzing slowdown. Faced with the speed of events, the rapid growth of blind hatred, and the expansion of fascistic and totalitarian discourse, they experience a profound sense of helplessness.
Social democrats, liberals, and republicans—rather than engaging in serious dialogue aimed at effective and modern joint action, internal critique, and conceptual reconstruction—are either absorbed in moral self-aggrandizement and excessive self-legitimation, or entangled in ideological score-settling over disputes that could be addressed at another time. Or else, all their energy is consumed by responding to a situation produced by the greatest crime against humanity committed by the Islamic Republic, and—faced with the utter absence of conscience in the so-called “father of the nation”—they devote themselves entirely to solidarity, documenting the catastrophe, mourning, aiding survivors, and speaking of prisoners and detainees. Meanwhile, an extremist current with clear fascist markers is weaving legitimacy from the blood of the dead, intoxicated by its “historical moment,” buoyed by global thugs, awaiting good news of war so it can exploit the eruption of joy among a people pushed to the end of the line—people who now expect nothing but the death of their oppressors—to generate a new wave of emotional mobilization aimed at securing a return to the wretched servitude of monarchy. This is a catastrophic situation. A profound pain. The urgent tasks facing these republican figures are so numerous that nothing short of solidarity, organization, and the formation of forces—alongside the entry of young leaders within a new, wise, and creative order—will suffice. Failing this, many will burn out under pressure and be crushed beneath grief, while many others will be deliberately buried and suffocated beneath layers of baseness and crime.
A significant portion of political and cultural elites, instead of practicing responsible silence and rethinking, proposing a new project, offering a new language, and acknowledging the operational deadlock and general helplessness, have each reduced their role—through their small platforms—to that of ordinary public activists in social media and mainstream media (much like many of us online). It is precisely within this vacuum of leadership and prudence—let me be clearer: political cowardice—that reactionary, regressive ultra-nationalism, with its fascistic slogans and promises, its fabricated “new order,” its utterly imaginary 100- or 180-day plans for prosperity, its Trump-style rhetoric of restoring national greatness, its humiliation, threats, and verbal abuse of “internal enemies,” even its threats of physical violence, executions, and purges after seizing power, and its parasitic attachment to global thugs (read: subservience), is effortlessly occupying the field.
This fascism draws its strength neither from intellectual depth, nor from a history of sacrifice and struggle against the Islamic Republic, nor from organized civil society, nor from community-oriented values and policies, nor from deep organic ties with the movement’s base. Rather, it feeds on mechanisms of mass manipulation, propaganda, branding, ideological narrative-building, and the rise of reactionary, extremist nationalist emotions. What fuels it here, in my view, is the helplessness of a fragmented, pluralist opposition. A historical moment has emerged in which our prominent figures—like our innocent massacred people—have become “helpless,” enraged, and mourning within the relatively free world of the diaspora; not merely because they have been suppressed in various ways by religious and nationalist fascism, but because they have been unable to critique themselves, unable to see their own incapacity, and unable to produce anything new. They have grown accustomed to issuing statements and declaring partial, uncreative, and ineffective fronts. Accustomed to their own groups and generations. Accustomed to looking down on the younger generation. Accustomed to the inner satisfaction of “being right” and offering “deep analysis.” And whenever a group rolls up its sleeves to act, they retreat into the role of the “wise leader,” limiting themselves to advice, encouragement, admonition, and reprimand—without materially realizing the action itself. These figures of the previous generation have claimed for themselves a status they refuse to relinquish. They suffer from a complex depression that, compounded by a massive post-event trauma, has pushed them to the brink of collapse; at the very least, they must, in the spirit of ACT, accept their incapacity (Acceptance) and commit to moving beyond it (Commitment) and seek treatment. If this trajectory continues, the outcome is clear: suffocation will prevail—not only over society, but over the very anti-totalitarian, freedom-seeking, republican elites themselves. Many will be eliminated; many thin-minded, naïve, yet emotional actors will become accomplices; and many will withdraw and be cast to the margins of history.
Over the past few days, I have reviewed much of the opposition’s literature from 1981 to the present—programs, charters, covenants, proposals, councils, and manifestos—right up to recent years. I am astonished by the abundance of excellent theoretical content and brilliant practical recommendations contained therein. What astonishes me most is how it is possible that, to this day, no founding core of five to ten individuals has emerged to take steps toward building an organization and structure that is sustainable, creative, grounded in this rich literature, and committed to carrying the work forward.
I am astonished.
Let us, for once, break tradition. Instead of remaining the audience for these figures’ advice, let us advise them. My address is to thinkers, intellectuals, prominent human-rights activists, and republicans. In moments like these, your verbosity on social media and your appearances in one outlet or another to answer the questions of a confused journalist do not constitute fulfilling your duty. These are, at best, minor parts of it. You have no right to stop there. And if you believe you are doing more, you are obliged to report it transparently to your audience. Your isolated voice—barely and fleetingly echoed on the BBC and, occasionally and under compulsion, on Iran International—and your clumsy, unappealing posts and videos on social media do not signify “struggle” or virtue; they signify helplessness. Your distance from, and aversion to, using the latest technologies to convey your message in the most professional and effective way possible is not a virtue; it is a justification for lack of commitment and irresponsibility. You, the prominent figures, need an operational synthesis. For while the growth of totalitarian narratives in the diaspora is not your fault, you are responsible for the speed of their growth and the extent of their success. At times, stepping back from social media, halting statement-writing and rhetorical prose (a long-standing habit that was, at certain stages, valuable), and entering into difficult intra-group dialogue is not a sign of weakness, nor a cause for shame; it is the condition for survival, reconstruction, and the leap forward of the vast republican body. Among you, I have seen very few with the grounding and substance for such a move. History shows that if elite opposition forces cannot acknowledge their own helplessness, if they do not dare to “go silent” for a while in order to rethink and bring their theoretical capital fully to bear, real suffocation will, sooner or later, be imposed on them from outside. We either return with something new—in analysis, in language, in political ethics, and in action—or history will quietly set us aside, to the benefit of the very proxy fascist hatchlings we now denounce, and then curse us.
- Here, Republican is used in the Iranian political context and should not be confused with American conservatism; it refers to progressive, democratic forces, including social democrats and social liberals. ↩︎
