Tehran’s historic Grand Bazaar, long regarded as a political and economic barometer of the Islamic Republic, became the epicentre of renewed unrest in late December as merchants staged protests against Iran’s theocratic rulers over the sharp collapse of the national currency. What began as scattered demonstrations driven by economic despair has since evolved into one of the most consequential protest movements Iran has seen since the 1979 revolution, reshaping the dynamics of dissent and alarming the country’s leadership.
Initially, participation in the bazaar protests was limited. Shopkeepers shuttered stalls and voiced anger over the tumbling rial, soaring inflation and the erosion of purchasing power that has crippled livelihoods across the country. Similar economic grievances have fuelled repeated protest waves in recent years, many of which flared intensely but lacked sustained momentum or a unifying leadership.
That changed dramatically last week.
The turning point came when Reza Pahlavi, the exiled son of Iran’s last shah, issued a public call for nationwide demonstrations on Thursday and Friday. Pahlavi, who has lived in the United States since the 1979 revolution that toppled his father, framed his message explicitly around regime change — a sharp departure from the reformist or grievance-based rhetoric that has characterised most protests in the Islamic Republic over the past four decades.
At first, Iranian authorities appeared dismissive. State media openly mocked the call, suggesting that the US-based Pahlavi held little real influence inside the country. Officials seemed to calculate that the appeal would resonate mainly with the diaspora rather than Iranians on the ground.
They were wrong.
Pahlavi’s message spread at astonishing speed across social media platforms before the authorities could react. His video on Instagram had garnered more than 90 million views and nearly 500,000 comments by January 13 — unprecedented figures for Persian-language content online. Within days, huge crowds reportedly poured onto the streets, with demonstrations spreading to all of Iran’s 31 provinces. Chants calling for Pahlavi’s return to the country echoed in cities and towns, marking a moment that many observers described as historic.
For the first time since the Islamic Republic was established, a political figure explicitly calling for the overthrow of the system appeared to mobilise mass participation inside Iran. Previous protest movements, while often large and intense, stopped short of such direct demands.
In 2009, Mir-Hossein Mousavi mobilised millions after losing a disputed presidential election to Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, in what became known as the Green Movement. Yet those protests largely sought reforms within the existing system rather than its dismantling. Later uprisings in 2017–18, 2019–20 and 2022 were driven by economic pain, fuel price hikes or social grievances, and were largely leaderless, organised through decentralised social media networks.
This time, the protests combined the connective power of online platforms with a clear symbolic leadership figure. Analysts say this fusion has given the movement a potentially wider reach and deeper political impact than previous waves of unrest.
As the scale of demonstrations became apparent, Iranian authorities realised they had underestimated Pahlavi’s influence. Their response was swift and severe. On January 8, the regime imposed a near-total internet shutdown across the country. Telephone lines and SMS services were also cut, plunging more than 85 million people into an information blackout.
Since then, Iranians have been largely cut off from the outside world, with access limited to a handful of state-run outlets that remain intermittently available online. Among them are Tasnim and Fars news agencies, both closely affiliated with the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC). Independent media, foreign news outlets and social media platforms have been rendered inaccessible.
While Iranians have frequently circumvented censorship and restrictions in the past using virtual private networks (VPNs), such tools are ineffective when the entire internet infrastructure is shut down. The tactic has been used before, most notably during the November 2019 protests, when a near-total blackout coincided with one of the bloodiest crackdowns in the Islamic Republic’s history. Human rights groups estimate that up to 1,500 people were killed during that uprising.
This time, one key difference is the limited presence of Starlink satellite internet. Though only a tiny fraction of Iranians have access to Starlink terminals, the service has enabled a small number of videos and reports to leak out, offering rare glimpses of the unrest and the state’s response.
Even so, information remains fragmentary. Activists and rights groups say hundreds of protesters have already been killed — possibly even thousands — while more than 10,000 people have been arrested. The government has stepped up efforts to jam and disrupt Starlink signals, seeking to seal off one of the last remaining channels to the outside world.
On the streets, security forces have responded with gunfire, mass arrests and widespread intimidation. At the same time, protesters have sought to counter one of the regime’s most powerful tools: surveillance. Videos that have emerged show demonstrators disabling or destroying facial recognition cameras that blanket many urban areas, part of a sophisticated monitoring system used to identify and track dissenters.
Alongside China and Russia, Iran has developed one of the world’s most advanced systems of digital authoritarianism. Over the past decade, the regime has refined three core strategies to suppress unrest.
The first is the use of internet shutdowns. By cutting connectivity, authorities disrupt protesters’ ability to organise, limit the flow of information abroad and reduce international pressure over human rights abuses.
The second is the deployment of facial recognition technology, much of it reportedly imported from China, to identify participants in protests and facilitate targeted arrests.
The third is narrative control. State media and official channels disseminate propaganda and disinformation designed to delegitimise protests, justify repression and discourage broader participation.
In recent days, all three strategies have been deployed simultaneously, accompanied by lethal force. The last time this full spectrum of tactics was used together was in 2019, under reformist President Hassan Rouhani. During the 2022 protests sparked by the death of Mahsa Amini, internet shutdowns were imposed more selectively on a regional basis.
As the blackout deepens, state media and senior officials have moved quickly to construct their preferred narrative of the unrest. One of the regime’s oldest propaganda themes — linking domestic dissent to foreign enemies — has returned with force.
President Masoud Pezeshkian, himself regarded as a reformist, has claimed that “the enemy has brought trained terrorists into the country,” insisting that those involved in the unrest are not ordinary Iranians. Mohammad Bagher Ghalibaf, the speaker of parliament, has similarly alleged that Iran’s enemies have entered a “phase of terrorist warfare”.
Tasnim News Agency has reported that “terrorist actions” have resulted in the deaths of “martyrs”, a term it applies to both security personnel and protesters, while blaming “agents” of the United States and Israel for the violence. State outlets have repeatedly broadcast reports of alleged arrests of “Mossad agents”, reinforcing claims of foreign orchestration.
Such narratives are designed to strip protesters of legitimacy and portray the state’s response as a necessary defence of public security rather than a crackdown on citizens. They also aim to deter undecided segments of society from joining the movement by framing participation as collaboration with hostile powers.
Equally important, analysts say, is the message directed inward, toward the regime’s own support base. While hardcore supporters remain ideologically committed to the Islamic Republic, prolonged economic hardship and sustained unrest risk eroding loyalty. Emphasising external threats allows leaders to rally supporters around a familiar story of resistance to foreign plots, shifting attention away from domestic failures.
Despite the digital darkness and the escalating repression, protesters continue to take to the streets, risking their lives in pursuit of change. Cut off from the global conversation, many hope that the fragments of footage and testimony that escape Iran’s blackout will be enough to alert the world to what is unfolding inside the country.
As Iran enters one of the most opaque and dangerous moments in its recent history, the outcome remains uncertain. What is clear is that the combination of economic collapse, political symbolism and unprecedented mobilisation has pushed the Islamic Republic into uncharted territory — with consequences that may reverberate far beyond its borders.
