This is not a conventional conflict for Khamenei and his machinery of repression. It is a war of survival. They know that the fall of the regime would mean the collapse of every layer of power, from the top leadership down to the lowest enforcers, leaving none of them safe or at peace anywhere in the world.
That is why this wounded serpent will fight to the very last for its own existence.
Even if every country on earth were to sever diplomatic ties with Iran, the regime would still not voluntarily relinquish power. If preserving itself required the sacrifice of one million Iranians, it would do so without hesitation.
The real question, then, is not about the regime’s brutality. That is already settled.
The real question is about the rest of the world.
Are Western governments and the Iranian opposition abroad truly prepared to commit to the cost of bringing this regime down?
Will they go all the way and pay the price, or will they retreat when that price becomes politically inconvenient?
Because toppling this regime demands more than slogans or sanctions.
It demands a clear-eyed acceptance of one hard truth:
There is no regime change without a very high cost.
@PahlaviReza@AlinejadMasih
I remain skeptical of the recent agreement between the Trump administration and the Iranian regime. Decades of experience suggest that ideological governments whose survival depends on regional destabilization, proxy networks, and domestic repression rarely undergo meaningful and lasting transformation through concessions alone.
In my view, this agreement risks providing an opportunity for strategic recovery rather than delivering a genuine solution. While thousands of Iranian citizens have paid a heavy price in their pursuit of freedom, justice, and human dignity, granting breathing space to a government widely blamed for much of that suffering raises serious moral and strategic questions.
If the ultimate objective is a stable and lasting peace, it is important to recognize that peace is more than the mere absence of conflict. Durable stability requires accountable institutions, the rule of law, and respect for the rights of citizens. History has repeatedly shown that postponing a crisis is not necessarily the same as resolving it.
@WalidAbuHaya1@simonmontefiore@marklevinshow
Look at the chilling calm with which this Taliban gunman pulls the trigger. There is no hesitation, no trace of mercy—only the cold certainty of an executioner carrying out a sentence that no civilized conscience could ever justify. In a matter of seconds, a human life is extinguished, and an entire universe of dreams, memories, hopes, and possibilities is erased forever.
This woman was veiled. She was not a murderer. She was not a predator. She posed no threat to anyone. What crime, then, warranted such ruthless violence? What offense could possibly justify reducing a human being to a lifeless body on the ground?
Moments like these reveal the true horror of political fanaticism: the transformation of ordinary cruelty into a system, the elevation of violence into a virtue, and the destruction of human dignity in the name of an abstract cause.
No ideology deserves reverence when it demands the surrender of compassion. No movement deserves legitimacy when it treats human lives as expendable. Wherever such doctrines seek to impose themselves through fear, coercion, and bloodshed, they must be confronted with moral clarity and rejected without hesitation.
Freedom, justice, and human dignity are not born from the barrel of a gun. They flourish where conscience is respected, where individuals are free, and where the value of a single human life is recognized as greater than the ambitions of any ideology.
@marklevinshow@simonmontefiore@SpencerGuard
Wow, I can’t quite believe it. I’ve just hit thirty thousand followers.
Thank you, from the bottom of my heart.
It feels pretty amazing knowing so many people find my work worthwhile.
Your support means the world, I really appreciate every single one of you.
Thank you 🫶🏽
I ask this often.
Getting signatures on a petition is one of the tiny handful of steps we can take as ordinary parents to bring the grotesque freedom of our American child's killer to the attention of the US public, US lawmakers, US decision-makers.
Please sign and support us.
You are completely right.
In some cases, hostility toward Israel and anti-Jewish sentiment appears deeply ingrained in certain worldviews—almost like a persistent ideological pattern that can take hold of vulnerable minds.
Here as well, one can hear, on a daily basis in some mosques, expressions of wishing for Israel’s destruction.
But Israel will endure. And those who anchor themselves in such hatred will ultimately carry those aspirations with them to the grave.
The Taliban carry themselves as though they stand above both humanity and history itself, as if the keys to heaven and earth had been entrusted solely to their hands. In the name of God, they measure even the breath of ordinary people against the suffocating rigidity of their merciless interpretation of Sharia, building an empire of fear upon the ruins of freedom. Yet behind this grand performance of piety, another truth has always lingered in the shadows — a truth stained with torture, humiliation, and the trafficking of human suffering. They arrested my brother — a battalion commander in the former Afghan army — on fabricated accusations, dragged him into the darkness of their prisons, and then demanded 300,000 Afghanis for his release, as though a human life were nothing more than merchandise to be traded in the marketplace of power. And faced with such staggering hypocrisy, one cannot help but ask: when cruelty can so effortlessly cloak itself in the language of faith, and oppression can speak in the voice of scripture, what, then, truly remains sacred — the religion itself, or merely the fear imposed upon people in its name?
@simonmontefiore@WalidAbuHaya1@laila_mohammadi
Orhan is my nephew.
His father — my brother — was a battalion commander in the former Afghan National Army.
A man who had already seen war, explosions, death, and the collapse of an entire country.
And after surviving all of that, his greatest dream became painfully simple:
to come home alive at night and let his son fall asleep in his arms.
Every night, Orhan slept on his father’s chest while my brother gently massaged his little feet until he drifted to sleep.
To the world, it may sound ordinary.
But for a child, those few quiet minutes become everything:
the meaning of safety,
the meaning of home,
the meaning of peace.
Yesterday, the Taliban took my brother away.
The day before that, they took my father as well, trying to pressure me into surrendering myself to Taliban intelligence.
And this is what so many people outside Afghanistan still fail to understand:
Here, they do not only detain people.
They detain peace.
They detain families.
And they force children to become familiar with fear far too early.
This morning, when Orhan woke up and saw the empty space beside him, he said nothing.
He did not cry.
He quietly came to me, lay beside me under the blanket, wrapped his arms around me, and pulled my hand toward his feet.
As if he was trying to bring last night back.
And in that moment, I realized some pain becomes so deep that it no longer makes a sound.
The cruelest part is that the people responsible call themselves representatives of God,
while governing human lives through fear.
Then they take a man who once wore the uniform of this country,
a man who now only wanted to work honestly, buy a taxi, and build a life for his family,
and reduce him to one word:
“Spy.”
And suddenly, every threat, every humiliation, and every act of pressure against him becomes justified.
A few months ago, my friend @PaniDubito started a fundraiser to help my brother buy a taxi.
Not for luxury.
Not for escape.
Just so he could stand on his own feet again and support his family with dignity.
This is the fundraiser link:
https://t.co/2n79Cpxcp3
And now…
we are simply hoping and praying that Orhan’s father returns safely to the arms of his family very soon.
Please pray for Orhan.
Pray that he can once again fall asleep safely in his father’s arms, where the world still feels gentle and whole.
@simonmontefiore@WalidAbuHaya1@arnoldroth
We were never a family whose name was tied to violence, corruption, or betrayal.
The only inheritance we possessed was dignity — that quiet and honorable legacy preserved across generations without spectacle or noise.
My father was a teacher for more than forty-four years; a man who devoted his life not to power, but to illuminating the minds of children in this wounded land. Never once did he oppress another soul, betray his country, or trade his conscience for personal gain. My mother is a gentle and innocent woman whose entire universe was her family, and whose only language was kindness. My sisters were raised in purity and grace, and my brothers, despite serving for years in the military, never brought home even a single coin that did not rightfully belong to them.
We were one of those rare families who believed that even in the darkest of times, a human being must remain honorable.
We did not consume the rights of others. We did not humiliate people. We did not abandon those who trusted us. We simply tried to live according to law, conscience, and human values — never imagining that one day, our decency itself would become our greatest vulnerability.
And now, when a family with such a past is subjected to fear, humiliation, persecution, and torment beneath a regime built upon intimidation and revenge, a terrifying question emerges in the human mind:
If this is the fate of those who spent their lives living with dignity, then what becomes of those whose pasts are more complicated, whose voices are louder, or whose protection is even more fragile?
Perhaps this is the true tragedy of Afghanistan:
a land where innocence no longer protects people, but instead leaves them defenseless before cruelty.
@JanEvelynCRE @nypost@jihadwatchRS
Orhan is my nephew.
His father — my brother — was a battalion commander in the former Afghan National Army.
A man who had already seen war, explosions, death, and the collapse of an entire country.
And after surviving all of that, his greatest dream became painfully simple:
to come home alive at night and let his son fall asleep in his arms.
Every night, Orhan slept on his father’s chest while my brother gently massaged his little feet until he drifted to sleep.
To the world, it may sound ordinary.
But for a child, those few quiet minutes become everything:
the meaning of safety,
the meaning of home,
the meaning of peace.
Yesterday, the Taliban took my brother away.
The day before that, they took my father as well, trying to pressure me into surrendering myself to Taliban intelligence.
And this is what so many people outside Afghanistan still fail to understand:
Here, they do not only detain people.
They detain peace.
They detain families.
And they force children to become familiar with fear far too early.
This morning, when Orhan woke up and saw the empty space beside him, he said nothing.
He did not cry.
He quietly came to me, lay beside me under the blanket, wrapped his arms around me, and pulled my hand toward his feet.
As if he was trying to bring last night back.
And in that moment, I realized some pain becomes so deep that it no longer makes a sound.
The cruelest part is that the people responsible call themselves representatives of God,
while governing human lives through fear.
Then they take a man who once wore the uniform of this country,
a man who now only wanted to work honestly, buy a taxi, and build a life for his family,
and reduce him to one word:
“Spy.”
And suddenly, every threat, every humiliation, and every act of pressure against him becomes justified.
A few months ago, my friend @PaniDubito started a fundraiser to help my brother buy a taxi.
Not for luxury.
Not for escape.
Just so he could stand on his own feet again and support his family with dignity.
This is the fundraiser link:
https://t.co/2n79Cpxcp3
And now…
we are simply hoping and praying that Orhan’s father returns safely to the arms of his family very soon.
Please pray for Orhan.
Pray that he can once again fall asleep safely in his father’s arms, where the world still feels gentle and whole.
@simonmontefiore@WalidAbuHaya1@arnoldroth
The immeasurable human pain and suffering launched by the Taliban against Afghanistan's civil population in the name of all that is held sacred under Islam is a horror for which there is no defensible explication.
It is a travesty of monumental proportions reduced to the reality of atrocities committed against all those who resist Islamist totalitarianism.
Nasir, your experiences and those of your family are the nightmare from which all civilized people shrink in terror.
Mamdani posts ‘Palestinian’ propaganda video and statement for ‘Nakba Day’
Mamdani does not, of course, mention the 900,000 Jews expelled from Muslim countries when Israel was founded. He doesn’t mention that Israel invited the Arabs to stay, or that the Arab Higher Committee told the Arabs to leave. He doesn’t mention the fact that “the Palestinian people” didn’t even exist in 1948, and that none of the neighboring Arab states would take in the Arabs who left Israel, because they wanted to use them as a weapon against the Jewish state. He doesn’t mention the fact that when the Arab Higher Committee told the Arabs to leave, it was in anticipation of the neighboring Arab states destroying Israel and carrying out a new genocide of the Jews, after which the Arabs would have been able to return. He doesn’t say anything about how ridiculous it is that the children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren (and on and on) of the people who left Israel are considered “refugees.” He doesn’t mention the fact that those people became “Palestinians” in 1964 to counter the image of tiny Israel facing off against giant Arab states; since then, the media has portrayed the conflict as the massive Israeli war machine against the poor, defenseless “Palestinians” (who have received billions upon billions from the EU, the UN and the US).
My son Qasim has been unable to attend school for five years.
Five years without a classroom, without playground noise, without the ordinary friendships and chaos of childhood.
He cannot even walk outside freely and interact with children his own age.
Sometimes I look at him and wonder how much silence a child can carry before it quietly reshapes who they are.
At an age when he should have been discovering the world, his world has been reduced to a crowded house, a few books, and endless limitations.
And yet, he refuses to give up on learning.
He studies with a seriousness that feels far too heavy for a child his age. He writes, reads, practices, and pushes himself constantly, as if he already understands how fragile the future can become when education is taken away from you.
But living in a small three-room house with fifteen family members leaves very little space for peace or concentration.
Sometimes not even a few quiet minutes belong to him.
Today he started crying because of the sound of his newborn sister and cousin crying in the house.
Through tears, he said:
“Where can I go so I can’t hear the crying and finally focus on my lessons?”
It was such a simple sentence, but hearing it from a child who has spent years trapped between isolation, overcrowding, and uncertainty felt devastating.
People often think suffering is only about hunger, poverty, or displacement.
But sometimes the cruelest part is watching a child grow up too early, carrying burdens that were never meant for his shoulders.
@WalidAbuHaya1@taurus2tweet@arnoldroth