Iran analyst
One hundred days after protests erupted across Iran in January 2026, the events continue to reveal something fundamental about Iranian society: many people now fear silence more than they fear protest.
The protests were the result of several crises converging at once. Economic collapse, political exclusion and a growing sense of humiliation pushed society beyond its tolerance threshold and created a shared feeling across social groups that life in Iran had become increasingly unlivable.
When demonstrations erupted across the country, many slogans targeted the Islamic Republic itself.
The roots of the unrest run deep in provinces that host major oil and industrial projects but have long seen little improvement in living standards.
From Abadan to Bushehr and from Kangan to Gilan-e Gharb, many of the cities that first erupted in protest are places where people have spent years asking the same question: where did the country’s oil wealth go?
President Masoud Pezeshkian’s government attempted to calm tensions by announcing direct cash payments to households after eliminating subsidized exchange rates. The payment amounted to about one million tomans—roughly seven dollars.
The gesture came at a time when food prices were soaring. Cooking oil prices had risen more than 200 percent, eggs were more than twice as expensive as a year earlier, and some shopkeepers had begun selling basic dairy products on installment plans.
For many Iranians the payment symbolized not relief but humiliation.
The middle class and the bazaar
One of the defining features of the January protests was the erosion of the social distance between Iran’s middle class and its poorer citizens.
Historically, Iran’s middle class has been a carrier of civil and political demands. But by early 2026 many middle-class families were struggling simply to avoid falling into poverty.
Political sociologists have long argued that revolutions are rarely led by the poorest members of society. They tend instead to emerge among groups that once enjoyed relative stability but now feel they are falling.
In Iran, the middle class had not only lost income but also social status. That loss helped create an unwritten alliance between middle-class citizens and poorer groups, both of whom felt they were suffering under the same policies.
Another signal that the unrest had entered new territory came when parts of Tehran’s Grand Bazaar closed on January 7.
The bazaar has historically been one of the most cautious institutions in Iran’s political life. Even during severe economic crises it has often preferred negotiation and indirect pressure to open confrontation. During the 2009 protests many merchants stayed silent, and in 2022 they largely remained on the sidelines. This time was different.
Currency volatility made supply chains chaotic and pricing unpredictable. A product purchased in the morning could be worth something entirely different by the afternoon. Many traders said they could no longer price goods reliably, and keeping shops open risked losses rather than gains.
When sections of the bazaar shut their doors, it signaled that dissatisfaction had spread beyond traditional protest groups. A conservative economic institution had concluded that the existing order itself had become a source of instability.
The collapse of reformist hopes
For some voters, President Pezeshkian had represented a final opportunity for reform and for avoiding war.
As protests intensified, however, he adopted increasingly hardline rhetoric. On January 11 he described protesters as “terrorists” and called on security forces to respond decisively.
Even some reformist figures who had supported him began to express frustration.
The shift reinforced a broader perception among many Iranians that the political system was incapable of meaningful change.
Combined with the economic crisis and the aftermath of the 12-day war, this sense of political closure deepened public despair.
From scattered anger to mass protest
The January protests also unfolded against a tense geopolitical backdrop.
Statements from foreign political figures—including remarks by Donald Trump warning Tehran against violent repression—were widely circulated among Iranian audiences. At the same time, Iran’s exiled prince Reza Pahlavi called for coordinated demonstrations and nightly slogans across the country.
Such messages helped focus attention on specific moments of protest. But they did not create the anger that drove people into the streets. That anger had been building for years.
The protests occurred as the Islamic Republic appeared to be shifting toward what might be described as a more defensive style of governance.
In this approach, economic grievances and social demands are increasingly treated as potential security threats. Limited cultural concessions—such as relaxing enforcement of the hijab law or allowing controlled concerts—serve mainly as tools for managing pressure rather than as signs of genuine reform.
The January protests tested this model. The state ultimately suppressed the demonstrations. Yet repression alone cannot address the deeper structural tensions that produced the uprising in the first place.
The streets may have emptied. But many Iranians now believe that the country cannot return to the conditions that existed before January.
At least 36,500 Iranians were killed by the Islamic Republic during the January uprising, mostly on January 8 and 9, according to classified documents, field reports and witness accounts reviewed by Iran International, with the true toll believed by many to be far higher.
The dead included children, students and the elderly. Among the youngest victims frequently cited was three-year-old Melina Asadi.
One image from the unrest remains etched in public memory: a bloodied older woman standing in the street, fist raised, saying, “I’m not afraid. I’ve been dead for 47 years.”
Another was the sight of body bags. Videos that emerged despite the blackout showed rows of black bags lining courtyards, makeshift morgues overflowing and desperate families searching among the dead for loved ones.
Some bodies appeared with catheters and breathing tubes still in place, reinforcing witness claims that wounded protesters were killed after reaching hospitals.
One eyewitness, Kiarash — whose surname is being withheld for security reasons — described Tehran’s main cemetery as a “warehouse of bodies,” saying trucks continued arriving to unload more corpses as families waited outside.
The protests, which erupted in early January, were met with overwhelming force. Demonstrators demanding freedom were confronted with live fire, blades and military-grade repression.
Witnesses also described hospitals turned into extensions of the crackdown. Doctors and healthcare workers were allegedly threatened, detained or attacked for treating the injured. Some families say loved ones who survived initial gunfire were later killed inside hospital wards.
One such case was 17-year-old Sam Afshari, whose father told Iran International that after being wounded during protests in Karaj, his son was taken to hospital alive, placed on a breathing tube and then fatally shot.
“They finished him off,” his father said.
Authorities and some outside observers initially portrayed the unrest as primarily economic. But many Iranians rejected that narrative.
While anger first surfaced in the bazaars — historically seen as a pillar of the Islamic Republic’s support base — in late December, demonstrations quickly spread to universities, provincial towns and religious communities.
Unrest reached hundreds of cities and towns nationwide, according to reports reviewed by Iran International.
For many participants, this was not just another protest wave. It was the release of 47 years of accumulated pressure over repression, corruption, economic decline and personal freedoms.
Iranians were demanding a future not defined by compulsory social controls, state violence or a nuclear confrontation that repeatedly drags the country into crisis.
On January 8, authorities cut public access to the internet, triggering a 20-day digital blackout that rights groups say helped conceal the scale of the killings.
The blackout severely restricted access to independent information, communication with family abroad and documentation of abuses.
Iranian officials also acknowledged economic damage, with estimates placing losses in the tens of millions of dollars per day.
Trump support resonated with some protesters
During the uprising, support from US President Donald Trump drew significant attention.
For some Iranians, it mattered because memories of the 2009 Green Movement — the mass protest movement that erupted after disputed elections under President Barack Obama — still run deep. Many from that era felt the world did not do enough.
A few days after the January 8–9 massacre of protesters, Trump publicly backed demonstrators, writing: “Iranian patriots… KEEP PROTESTING… HELP IS ON ITS WAY.” He urged them to “take over your institutions” and warned the US was “locked and loaded.”
Despite mixed views on the effectiveness of a military campaign to topple the Islamic Republic, many Iranians felt so desperate that they wanted Trump to begin strikes as soon as possible.
He did so nearly 50 days after the massacre.
40-day war hits regime hard
On February 28, the United States and Israel launched a coordinated military campaign targeting the Islamic Republic’s leadership, nuclear infrastructure, missile systems, air defenses and internal security apparatus.
The operation included tens of thousands of strikes on military and strategic sites across Iran. Senior regime figures were killed, including Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei, in the most dramatic leadership blow since the 1979 revolution.
Other targets included IRGC commanders, Basij infrastructure, military production centers and strategic compounds tied to regime control. Iranian missile launchers and parts of the country’s strike capability were also heavily degraded.
For many Iranians who blamed these institutions for repression, torture and killings, the campaign was seen not simply as war, but as the first time the machinery used against them had itself come under sustained attack.
Videos reviewed by Iran International showed some Iranians thanking US President Donald Trump and Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu for the strikes. Others celebrated in homes and streets, with some dancing to YMCA — the song closely associated with Trump rallies — seeing the moment as symbolic justice after years of suffering.
Others hoped the weakening of the regime’s coercive apparatus could create space for future protest and political change, as promised by both Trump and Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu.
Yet even as parts of the repressive apparatus were hit, executions of prisoners and dissidents continued. Human rights groups say Iran carried out a record number of executions last year and warn the death penalty may be used even more aggressively after the war.
Diplomacy returns, questions remain?
The military campaign paused with the announcement of a two-week ceasefire on April 8, and the rhetoric has since shifted toward diplomacy: talk of deals, sanctions relief, frozen assets, and uranium transfers.
Iranian civil society groups have urged negotiators to include the release of political prisoners and prisoners of conscience in any agreement, arguing peace without human rights would leave thousands behind.
For many Iranians, the central question remains unchanged: where are the Iranian people in these negotiations?
Those killed in the streets, in detention and in hospitals did not die for another nuclear arrangement, many argue, nor to see one insider replaced by another such as Mohammad Bagher Ghalibaf.
One hundred days later, Iran remains suspended between grief and uncertainty.
Some feel partially avenged by the killing of Khamenei and his commanders, and by the weakening of the regime. Others still hold out hope that change may come. But many say they fear the world has moved on without them.
“I work as a freelance web developer and my income has dropped to zero because of the internet outage. I am selling my belongings to cover debts,” a citizen wrote in a message to Iran International.
Another said: “As a student and computer technician, I am stuck in uncertainty. Online classes are heavily disrupted, and I cannot even access the internet to complete projects. My workplace has no customers.”
NetBlocks said on Thursday the disruption had lasted 1,128 hours, describing the shutdown as unprecedented in scale for a country with deep reliance on global connectivity. The group added that its estimate, based on its COST methodology, also reflects wider social and human rights impacts.
Digital economy grinds to a halt
The outage has hit Iran’s digital sector, which had absorbed part of the country’s unemployment pressure over the past decade. Online businesses have lost access to customers, payment systems, and essential tools tied to the global internet.
The Rokna news website said on Wednesday the disruption amounted to a shutdown of the digital economy, noting that the cut to international internet access dealt a direct blow to online businesses.
Hundreds of small digital enterprises have been unable to maintain sales, customer communication, or after-sales services. Layoffs have spread across technology firms and media organizations, affecting employees whose work depends on stable connectivity, the outlet added.
Journalists and media workers have also faced income losses and job cuts as communication channels narrowed and publishing operations slowed, according to the report.
Workers face mounting financial strain
“I managed to connect briefly using expensive VPNs, but I have lost my job due to the internet disruption. I have loans to repay and rent to cover, and many others are in the same situation,” another citizen told Iran International.
Accounts from across the country point to a broader slowdown. “Prices have increased several times over. Many people have lost their jobs. At least 50 percent of shops are closed,” one resident said, adding that only essential services such as repair shops and small markets remain partially active.
Delays in salary payments have become more common in some businesses, increasing pressure on workers already affected by rising prices. Inflation has further reduced real wages, leaving even those still employed struggling to cover basic living costs.
Professional networks also reflect the downturn. Users on LinkedIn have publicly said they are seeking new job opportunities, indicating a rise in job seekers among skilled and experienced workers.
Experts warn of lasting damage
Economic journalist Arezoo Karimi said the losses extend beyond immediate income declines, warning of wider consequences for employment and growth.
“This means zero income for businesses that depend on international connectivity. It leads to layoffs and rising unemployment,” Karimi said, adding that daily losses run into tens of millions of dollars.
Karimi said the broader economic impact could reach several times the direct losses, pointing to reduced production and slower economic growth. Inflation, already elevated, is likely to worsen if disruptions continue.
“Businesses are not only losing income, they are losing their position in international markets and online visibility. These are damages that cannot easily be reversed,” Karimi added.
With limited access to global markets and tools, many digital workers now face a choice between prolonged uncertainty and leaving the country.
The outage has exposed the dependence of Iran’s digital economy on stable international connectivity, with weeks of disruption enough to dismantle businesses built over years.
