I want to thank the Committee on Foreign Affairs of the Dutch House of Representatives for inviting me to speak today on behalf of millions of my compatriots fighting for liberty, justice, and democracy.
I am grateful to the Dutch police and parliamentary security services for their professionalism, assistance, and protection.
My heartfelt thanks also go to our Iranian compatriots who gathered respectfully outside Parliament to stand with the people of Iran.
The message I brought to The Hague was simple: the plight of the Iranian people must become the driving focus of international policy on Iran. Empowering them, not emboldening this regime, will bring lasting peace and stability.
Six months ago, tonight, Tehran went dark. All of Iran went dark. And into that darkness, millions of Iranians walked out of their homes anyway.
January 8th and 9th were not just two nights of protest. They were the night Iran's silence broke. Millions came into the streets, into the squares, onto their rooftops — but the regime answered them with bullets. Tens of thousands of my compatriots were killed in those forty-eight hours. Tens of thousands more have been arrested, tortured, and sentenced to die since.
They came out, determined and brave. I think of them every day. On those two nights I lost countrymen I will never get to meet. I do not hear a statistic when I hear the number 40,000. I see a son who did not come home to his mother. A daughter who will not sit at her family's table again. I think of each of them the way I would think of my own child, my own brother, my own sister. I carry the weight of every one of those names. But the families of the fallen I meet with, week after week, hearten our nation's will to carry on. Their children did not die in vain. They died for freedom, and they died with pride.
History will remember what these men and women did; I will make sure of it. Like the resistance who stood against tyranny in occupied Europe, and like the revolutionaries who fought for liberty in America. But theirs was a particular bravery. They had no army, no air cover, nothing but the belief in what they stood for. They stood anyway. A united nation choosing to face the guns together rather than live one more day in fear. The men and women of the 8th and 9th of January will be remembered in Iran's history as the greatest generation that preferred to die free and standing than to live cowered on their knees.
To the international community, I ask this: do not let a negotiating table in Geneva or Islamabad erase what happened in the streets of Tehran, Mashhad, and Kermanshah. They died for freedom. And when they are free, the Strait of Hormuz will open. The nuclear threat will end. And we will have true peace.
I have told my compatriots: what you did on January 8th and 9th cannot be undone. Together, we will reclaim our country’s rightful place in the world, our national dignity, and honor the lives of our heroes. Now is the time to reassess, regroup, and rededicate ourselves to victory.
We honor the fallen by finishing what they started. A free Iran is no longer a matter of hope. It is a matter of fact.
And know that my brave compatriots are not just fighting for their own liberation but for the peace and stability of the world.
شش ماه از مرگبارترین کشتار تاریخ ایران میگذرد.
بیش از ۴۰ هزار ایرانی، تنها برای مطالبه آزادی، کرامت، و حق انتخاب آینده خود، به دست جمهوری اسلامی قتلعام شدند.
در کنار مردم ایران بایستید.
Long thread 1/2
Report from Tehran, written from April 18 to April 25
Tehran does not look like the city I once knew.
It looks like a city under occupation.
17 days after the ceasefire, the mood is not simple hope or simple despair. It is confusion, distrust, exhaustion, and a silence full of questions no one can answer.
The subway is free now, apparently. A cheap little bribe from the same terrorist Islamic Regime occupying Iran that spills our blood, breaks our economy, cuts our internet, then throws crumbs at us as if a free ticket can buy forgiveness.
And of course, even the free subway is late.
That is their whole empire in one image:
ruin your life,
offer you a discount,
fail to deliver that too.
The streets are not alive the way they should be. People move because they have to, not because the city calls them out. Public life has become functional, not social. Daytime is for errands, clinics, work, survival. Night belongs more and more to fear, checkpoints, and the regime’s staged little circuses.
You see fewer faces buried in phones now, because what is there to check when the regime has strangled the internet for weeks? Instead, almost everyone wears headphones, as if the whole city is trying to shut reality out before it crushes them.
Because the thought is unbearable:
that after all this blood,
after January,
after the arrests,
after the torture,
after the gallows,
this mafia might still survive.
Every major intersection, every square, every main four way carries the same sickness. Men in green and black, guns and batons in hand, military vehicles behind them, walking over our streets like they conquered a foreign land.
For one second, you feel like you have been dropped into a Metal Gear game.
Then you remember:
no, this is my city.
Do you know what it feels like to be a third rate citizen in your own homeland?
It has nothing to do with success, education, money, or work. Under this occupation, if you are not part of the mafia, you are disposable. Everything you have can be taken from you. Your job. Your home. Your phone. Your name. Your loved ones. Your life.
So you learn to walk carefully in the city where you were born.
I played in these streets.
I made friends here.
I rode my bike through half of this city.
I know Tehran like the back of my own hand.
I found love and got my heart broken in these streets.
I went on dates in cafés all over this city.
I worked in some of them too.
I have been part of the startup system of this city.
I have been to most of the bookstores.
I know these people. And do you want to know the interesting part?
We all feel it.
Being a Tehran kid is like being a New Yorker. It is more than an address. It is a rhythm, a wound, a language, a map written under your skin.
And now I have to move through it like a spy.
In my own city.
In my own homeland.
I have two phones, because one has to stay clean for the street. If they stop me and search the wrong one, I am not the only one who pays. My loved ones pay too.
That is what life becomes under a regime that treats truth like contraband.
The information space is broken beyond words. Rumors move faster than facts. Verification feels almost impossible. Trust in official sources is dead, and even unofficial news arrives wounded by blackout, fear, and delay.
People are not only uncertain.
They are trapped inside uncertainty.
I see the negotiations with Iran are really going well.
Attendees of Khamenei’s funeral were holding signs that called for the assassination of President Trump on the eve of America’s 250th Independence Day Celebration.
Muslims gonna Muslim.
No.
This is not regime change.
This is the receipt proving it has not happened yet.
Crown Prince Reza Pahlavi asked Americans to imagine an Iran that goes from “Death to America” to “God Bless America.”
That Iran exists.
I am writing from inside it.
It exists in the homes where people curse this regime under their breath.
In the phones people hide from checkpoints.
In the prisoners who refused to break.
In the mothers who buried children killed for wanting a normal country.
In the young Iranians who know the West is not our enemy.
But that Iran does not own the microphones yet.
The terrorist Islamic Regime occupying Iran does.
So when you see crowds chanting “Death to America,” understand what you are watching:
not Iran reborn,
not regime change,
not national will.
You are watching the prison guards scream from inside a prison they still control.
A free Iran will not export chants of death.
It will export talent, energy, friendship, trade, art, science, and peace.
That is the Iran waiting behind the guns.
Do not confuse the occupier’s noise with the nation’s soul.
Help us finish this.
یادتونه سگپدر میآمد جلوی دوربین با یک تکه کاغذپاره تو دستش و هی اخم میکرد و مردمو تهدید میکرد؟ یادتونه چند بار دستور کشتار مردممون رو داد و بهترینهامون رو سلاخی کرد؟
حالا مُرده و نعش کثیفش رو دارن چال میکنن.
واقعا خوشحالم از این موضوع.
دم بیبی و ترامپ گرم که این رو سگکش کردند
This is not the funeral of a leader.
It is the public liquidation of the terrorist Islamic Regime occupying Iran.
Watch the spectacle carefully.
Anyone who has ever seen a syndicate collapse knows the final ritual: one last parade, one last flag, one last rented roar to cover the sound of an empty vault.
The corpse they are carrying never belonged to Iran anyway.
Born from foreign loyalties.
Spent on foreign wars.
A servant of every cause except the nation he helped ruin.
Now they are burning their last currency on a ghost show, hoping ceremony can hide what every Iranian already sees:
the foundations are rotten,
the empire is broke,
the myth is dead.
Let them scream into the void.
The theater is empty.
The architect is ash.
The bankruptcy is absolute.
Iran is not mourning.
The occupation is.
هفته جهانی اقدام برای آزادی ایران | ۴ تا ۹ ژوئیه
همزمان با ششمین ماه خیزش ملی ۱۸ و ۱۹ دی و در برابر نمایش تبلیغاتی رژیم برای دفن جنایتکار اعظم، علی خامنهای، ایرانیان آزادیخواه در سراسر جهان به خیابانها میآیند تا صدای واقعی ملت ایران را به جهان برسانند.
آغاز: ۴ ژوئیه (۱۳ تیر) | مقابل سفارتخانههای آمریکا
جزئیات بیشتر بهزودی.
هیچوقت فکرش رو نمیکردم یه روز همچین توییتی بزنم.
میگن درخواست کمک شجاعت میخواد؛ شاید این بزرگترین شجاعتی باشه که تا امروز به خرج دادم، چون همیشه از کمک خواستن فرار میکردم.
اگر امکانش رو دارید، لطفاً از کمپین GoFundMe من حمایت کنید. اگر هم امکان کمک مالی ندارید، بازنشر این لینک برای من ارزش خیلی زیادی داره.
هر حمایتی، حتی اگه کوچیک باشه، میتونه یه تفاوت بزرگ ایجاد کنه.
ممنونم از همگی. ❤️
https://t.co/DekBpHzPso
Karaj Dam is now 87% full.
156 million cubic meters of water.
110% higher than this time last year.
Funny.
They told us the land was dying.
They told us drought was fate.
They told us Iran itself was broken.
But Khamenei is gone.
So many of his death eaters are gone.
And already, it feels like the curse they dragged over this land is beginning to lift.
The water is returning.
The air is changing.
The earth is remembering how to breathe.
Now imagine Iran when the entire terrorist Islamic Regime occupying our country is gone from power.
Imagine the rivers.
The lakes.
The cities.
The people.
The future they buried under 47 years of death, theft, drought, missiles, and lies.
Iran was never dead.
Iran has been occupied by pure EVIL for nearly half a decade.
It’s not just the communists who are making their move, but the blood thirsty, anti-American jihadists who are funding the communists.
@POTUS please save our country from political Islam. The red-green alliance will destroy America if you don’t put an end to this.
Mr @JDVance, let’s make this painfully simple.
Reham Saadati was not killed because he needed your corn, soybeans, or charity.
His father was a gold merchant.
He was not starving.
He was not begging.
He was not in the streets asking the world to feed him.
He went for his Shah.
He went for Iran.
He gave his life for freedom, dignity, and the future every human being is owed by birthright.
That is the part your analysis keeps missing.
The terrorist Islamic Regime occupying Iran is not facing a food riot.
It is facing a nation that wants its country back.
So stop shrinking our dead into an economic complaint.
They were not killed asking for crumbs.
They were killed demanding freedom.
بالا برید و پایین بیاید، "دکان دو نبش محرم و عاشورا" متعلق به آخوند است. سند و سرقفلی و همهچیزش بهنام ملاهاست.
با محرم و سینهزنی و تشبیه مظلومیت جانفداهای وطن به کشتهشدههای کربلا نمیتوانید این مراسم را از آن خود کنید.
از قدم گذاشتن به راهی که آخوند آسفالتش کرده خودداری کنیم.
نوحه و سینهزنی و حسین حسین و اباالفضل و علیاکبر و زینب و رقیه گفتن، مسیری است که آخوند شیعه و مراجع تقلیدش در انتهای آن دکهی سیگارفروشی باز کردهاند.
قدم زدن در این مسیر، با هر انگیزه و به هر ترتیبی که صورت گیرد، انتهایش به آن دکه و "نفع آخوند" ختم میشود.
با چه منطقی این کار را میکنید؟!
و جدای از اینها، ما ایرانی هستیم و اجدادمان ایرانی بودهاند و سرزمینمان هم "ایران" است. دعواهای ۱۴۰۰سال پیش اعراب (که از قضا دشمن سرزمین ما و ویرانگران آن و قاتلان اجدادمان بودهاند) هیچ ربطی به ما ندارد.
با چه منطقی میهمنپرستترین هموطنانمان را با کشتهشدههای ۱۴۰۰سال پیش اعراب شبیهسازی میکنید؟!
رها کنیم این کار بیمعنی را.