Summary
In January 2026, Iran faces nationwide protests driven not only by political repression but by economic collapse and the erosion of fear that once sustained the regime.
While younger generations openly challenge authority, much of society remains trapped between empathy and fear.
The state’s survival strategy relies on repression, collective trauma, and especially the Revolutionary Guards, whose vast economic interests give them strong incentives to resist change.
Despite unprecedented economic pressure, regional setbacks, and protests across all provinces, the movement suffers from a lack of unified leadership and mass institutional defections.
Without internal cohesion and subtle external pressure that avoids delegitimizing the uprising, the struggle risks exhausting itself before achieving transformation.
The article was first published in Israel Hayom on January 11, 2026.
In January 2026, the bitter cold of Mashhad is not merely weather; it is a physical sensation of freezing tension. Ahmad, a history teacher whose lessons always oscillated between the glory of the Persian Empire and the bloody potholes of the 20th century, sits on the narrow balcony of his third-floor apartment. Below, the street is not flowing. It is seething. Young men and women march there, smartphones raised in their hands like digital torches, their bluish glow flickering against the institutional darkness.
Suddenly, his gaze freezes: among the shouting crowd he recognizes the familiar faces of his 11th-grade students. This is an intergenerational collision broadcast live. Some smile at him with the embarrassment of those caught in the act; others avert their eyes, perhaps fearing that the teacher still represents the old order.
Ahmad retreats inside, closes the shutter, and feels his heart constrict. His dilemma is Iran’s dilemma as a whole: the distance between moral empathy and existential fear is an abyss that is hard to bridge. He asks himself: should I join? Should I stay?
In this space—between hope and personal responsibility—millions of Iranians are trapped, including large segments of the religious population who are not rushing to place their faith in revolution, yet are no longer willing to defend the mullahs.
The Anatomy of Repression: Memory as a Weapon
Democracy is a young and naïve guest in human history, while dictatorship is an old tenant—weathered, hardened, and endowed with steel-like endurance. In Iran, the “iron fist” is not merely a metaphor; it is a refined method of operation rooted in collective trauma. The Iranian regime has built its survival on the ruins of past protests:
- 2009 – The Green Movement: Nearly three million people flooded Tehran, but the establishment closed ranks like a fortified wall and suffocated hope in darkness.
- 2019 – Fuel Protests: Economic rage that ended with a total internet shutdown and a bloodbath; according to estimates, about 1,500 people were killed within days.
- 2022 – Mahsa Amini: A protest that crossed gender and class lines, but was worn down by executions and mass arrests. And in between, there were more demonstrations and strikes.
This Time Is Different: The Economy as a Gallows
Despite the repression, the reality of January 2026 challenges the regime with an equation it has never faced before. Iran is not merely under political siege—it is in a state of existential bankruptcy. With inflation approaching 60% and a severe energy shortage in an oil-rich state, the government has lost its tools for managing the crisis. The reinstatement of the international “snapback” mechanism has tightened the chokehold on the economy, turning the country into a pariah island, isolated and shunned. Even allies China and Russia stand aside.
Yet the real crack is not only in the pocket, but in the image. The collapse of regional “proxies”: Syria, Hezbollah, Hamas, and now Venezuela as well. And the blows inflicted on the Revolutionary Guards by Israel and the United States have fractured the all-powerful image of the Pasdaran. As the Persian proverb says:
«ترس که بریزد، راه باز میشود»
(When fear falls away, the path opens.)
But the path is still strewn with mines.
The protests have indeed spread to all 31 provinces, but the silence of the majority remains the loudest sound in Tehran. We do not see mass defections of officers or key figures in the religious establishment; there are no shutdowns by organizations such as the petrochemical industry, ports, or bus drivers. The adults are still on the balcony, and the key to stability remains in the hands that hold the guns and the money.
The Revolutionary Guards: Guardians of the “Cash Register”
The police and the regular army may show hesitation, but the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC) is a different story. For them, the fall of the regime is not only an ideological loss—it is personal bankruptcy. The IRGC is not merely a military force; it is a conglomerate controlling an estimated 35% to 40% of the Iranian economy. Through organizations such as Khatam al-Anbiya, it runs a vast empire worth tens of billions of dollars, spanning infrastructure, construction, oil, and communications.
Senior officers understand that revolution means nationalization of their assets and criminal prosecution. Therefore, they are not fighting for religion, but for real estate and for the right to continue plundering the nation’s resources.
The Central Problem: A Leadership Vacuum
The protesters’ core problem is what might be called “a river that has burst its banks.” This protest has the power to sweep everything away, but without political banks—without leadership to contain and direct the flow—the water simply spreads across the plain, loses momentum, and is eventually absorbed into the thirsty ground. Without unified leadership, the protest remains a beautiful but vulnerable chaos.
Reza Pahlavi is perceived as elitist monarchist nostalgia, tainted by corruption and irrelevant to the slums; figures such as soccer star Ali Karimi, the “Asian Maradona,” or Hamed Esmailion, the charismatic dentist, possess “symbolic capital,” but not command over an armed force. To topple the fortress, a critical mass of millions in the streets over time is required—enough to make repression logistically impossible.
An Israeli Strategy: “The Shadow Behind the Curtain”
In the intelligence world, a visible presence is often a liability. Israel must internalize this: it is still perceived as an enemy among broad segments of Iranian society. Public action would allow the regime to paint the protest in the colors of a “Zionist conspiracy” and re-solidify its ranks. Instead, Israel should operate in the shadows:
- Cognitive and cyber warfare: Surgical strikes against regime systems and the injection of incriminating information about senior IRGC corruption directly into citizens’ phones.
- Encouraging defections: Creating covert channels to mid-level figures within the establishment, with promises of immunity in the “day after,” in order to create cracks within the security apparatus.
- Arming and separatism: Providing covert support and targeted arms to separatist groups in the periphery—Kurds in the west and Baluchis in the southeast. This forces the regime to split its forces and stretch supply lines to the breaking point.
- Technological support: Using satellites and cyber technologies to ensure continuous internet access for protesters, even when the regime tries to pull the plug on the country.
Conclusion: The Teacher Looks Out His Window Again
Ahmad, the teacher from Mashhad, knows that history is written in blood—but also in ink and in consciousness. He sees his students marching, he knows the Revolutionary Guards will fight for every dollar and every oil field, and he hopes that somewhere beyond the horizon there are forces stirring the pot without leaving fingerprints.
The protests may spread to a boiling point at which President Pezeshkian and his government resign in desperation, but without a smart external push—one that is invisible—the fire may once again die down.
Israel must be the “wind” that fans the flames, not the oxygen that allows the regime to define the protest as a foreign invasion. Until change ripens, Ahmad will continue to murmur to himself with a bitter half-smile:
«صبر تلخ است، اما میوهاش شیرین»
(Patience is bitter, but its fruit is sweet.)
The only question is whether the Iranian people can survive the bitterness until the moment of harvest.
