Iran on the brink of the abyss: a war for freedom
According to his statements, the protests spread to more than 400 prefectures in the country's 31 provinces, with nearly 4,000 flashpoints. In Tehran alone, a hundred flashpoints were recorded.
These figures, coming from a senior regime official, reflect an unprecedented situation. Pourjamshidian also acknowledged the attack on 120 centres of the Basij — the paramilitary militia linked to the Revolutionary Guards — and the burning of 749 security force vehicles. He even mentions the use of firearms by protesters. These confessions say it all: fear has changed sides.
In Yazd province, General Gholami, commander of the Al-Ghadir Corps, spoke of ‘organised violence’ and targeted attacks on the regime's military training centres. For his part, the acting Friday imam in Tehran, Mullah Ali Akbari, did not hesitate to describe the uprising as ‘a planned civil war to overthrow the regime’. These words are not just rhetoric, but reflect a palpable panic within the corridors of power.
Without officially declaring martial law, the regime has imposed curfews, deployed armoured vehicles in the streets and fired on the population with vehicles equipped with DshKA machine guns, weapons normally reserved for armed conflict. Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei himself has acknowledged that ‘several thousand people have been killed’. These facts, verified by videos and testimonies, attest to a state of latent war between the Iranian people and a power that is maintained only through repression.
But this war is not new. Since 1981, uprisings have been occurring with increasing intensity: 191 cities affected in 2019, more than 200 in 2022 and today 400 prefectures in a few days. With each wave, the protest becomes deeper, more determined, more irreversible.
What distinguishes the current movement is its organisation. Unlike the spontaneous uprisings of the past, this one is based on structured resistance units operating in small mobile groups. Khamenei describes them as manipulated ‘naive young people’, but his words betray another reality: most of these young people belong to Generation Z, a youth that overwhelmingly rejects the values of the regime and no longer seeks to reform it, but to overthrow it.
These units, active throughout the country, were formed in 2016, particularly around the People's Mujahedin Organisation of Iran. They carry out actions on the ground, communicate despite digital censorship and confront the security forces directly. They embody a new, deep-rooted and enduring form of resistance.
This uprising reveals an irreconcilable rift between a militarised, ageing and isolated regime and a young, informed civil society exhausted by repression and poverty: more than 80% of the population now lives below the poverty line, while the elite clings to power and privilege.
Today, Iran appears to be a country occupied by its own oligarchy. All national resources are being mobilised to maintain an increasingly delegitimised power, even on the international stage. The European Parliament, for example, recently passed a resolution calling for the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps to be included on the list of terrorist organisations, which is a strong political signal.
Faced with this situation, there is only one conclusion: change in Iran will come neither from within the regime nor from diplomatic negotiations. It will come from the people themselves.
The deaths in recent months, the thousands of injured and the countless arrests bear witness to the price Iranians are willing to pay for their freedom. A freedom they no longer ask for: they take it, risking their lives.
The regime can continue to shoot, censor and imprison. But it can no longer stifle the will of a people who are no longer afraid.