Tariq Saeedi
As the world watches the unfolding events in Iran with a mix of concern and speculation, it’s easy to get lost in the cacophony of international commentary.
The recent protests, which erupted in late December 2025, have once again thrust the Islamic Republic into the global spotlight, highlighting deep-seated economic frustrations and the ever-present shadow of geopolitical tensions.
What began as a relatively contained outcry over everyday hardships has morphed into something broader, raising questions about the country’s stability and the potential for meaningful change.
At the heart of these demonstrations is a familiar story of economic strain. Iran’s economy has long been battered by a combination of internal mismanagement and external pressures, but the immediate spark came from the volatility in the currency exchange markets. This instability has disrupted supply chains for essential imported goods, particularly food items, leaving ordinary Iranians grappling with rising prices and shortages.
In a nation where subsidies and imports play a critical role in daily life, such grievances are not abstract—they hit kitchens and marketplaces directly.
In analyzing situations like this, it’s worth acknowledging that perfect objectivity in geopolitical commentary is as extinct as the dodo, if it ever truly existed at all. Bias creeps in through cultural lenses, political affiliations, and even the sources we rely on. — For an external observer, the most honest approach is to prioritize the interests of the Iranian people themselves—their well-being, aspirations, and right to self-determination—and frame any commentary through that prism. From this vantage, the protests offer a lens into both the resilience and the vulnerabilities of Iranian society.
The unrest kicked off peacefully in Tehran’s Grand Bazaar on December 28, 2025, with merchants and shoppers voicing their discontent over these economic woes. It could have remained focused: a clear, addressable complaint that might have prompted targeted government interventions, like stabilizing currency fluctuations or bolstering import mechanisms.
But as is often the case in such movements, the scope widened rapidly. What started as economic protest escalated into broader critiques of the entire political system, incorporating demands for reform, greater freedoms, and an end to corruption. This expansion, while reflecting genuine widespread dissatisfaction, diluted the movement’s momentum.
A leaderless crowd, amplified by social media and word-of-mouth, struggled to coalesce around specific, achievable goals, allowing the protests to turn violent in clashes with security forces.
External threats have only compounded the chaos.
Daily rhetoric from abroad—whether veiled warnings or overt condemnations—has done little to help, often serving to rally internal support for the status quo. We’ve seen this pattern before, notably in the 2022 protests following the death of Mahsa Amini.
When the entire system becomes the target, a significant portion of the population—those who align with the government’s worldview or fear instability—mobilizes in counter-demonstrations.
This isn’t a fringe element; it’s a considerable segment that views the regime as a bulwark against foreign interference. Their presence on the streets acts like an alkali to acid, neutralizing the original protests’ impact and turning public spaces into arenas of competing narratives.
There’s still a slim possibility that the current wave of unrest could abate without major upheaval. Fatigue, winter weather, or incremental concessions might cool tempers. Yet the government has adeptly used the protests’ broad charter of demands to pivot the blame outward.
Officials argue that the root cause isn’t domestic inefficiencies but the relentless grip of international sanctions. They point to the Obama-era nuclear deal, the Joint Comprehensive Plan of Action (JCPOA), which eased sanctions and brought tangible economic relief—lower inflation, increased oil exports, and a sense of normalcy for many Iranians. That progress unraveled when the Trump administration unilaterally withdrew in 2018, reimposing and intensifying penalties that have since squeezed the economy like a vise.
In this framing, sanctions aren’t tools to nudge the government toward policy shifts; they’re punitive measures aimed at the populace, designed to foment discontent and pressure ordinary people to rise against their leaders.
Iranian authorities emphasize a historical truth: throughout centuries of invasions, occupations, and external meddling—from ancient empires to modern superpowers—the Iranian people have consistently united against foreign aggression, even when disillusioned with their own rulers. This “Them vs. Us” mindset has been invoked masterfully, transforming what could have been a domestic reckoning into a war of narratives. The protests are recast not as legitimate expressions of grievance but as echoes of external plots, eroding their legitimacy in the eyes of many inside the country.
It’s also crucial to note Iran’s historical aversion to direct escalation.
The restrained response to the 2020 assassination of General Qasem Soleimani—limited missile strikes on U.S. bases without broader confrontation—illustrates a pragmatic calculus: Tehran prefers proxy engagements and diplomatic maneuvering over all-out conflict, knowing that war would devastate its already strained economy and population. — In the current climate, this restraint could either buy time for de-escalation or, if mishandled, fuel further internal divisions.
Ultimately, for the sake of Iran’s people, the path forward lies in addressing the core economic pains without letting narratives overshadow realities.
Targeted reforms, dialogue, and perhaps a revisit to international agreements could provide relief. But as long as the focus remains on blame-shifting rather than solutions, the cycle of protest and suppression risks perpetuating itself, leaving ordinary Iranians caught in the middle.
The world would do well to support measures that genuinely alleviate suffering, rather than fueling divisions that only deepen the impasse. /// nCa, 15 January 2026