“They Are Killing People Like Me”

Soheil Norouzi, Istanbul, Turkey

The view from exile of an Iranian watching his country collapse

For nearly two weeks, Iran has been engulfed in violence, protest, and despair. Since the regime cut off internet access across the country, information has reached the rest of the world only in fragments: slow, thick drips that offer little clarity about what is happening on the ground. 

This uncertainty weighs heaviest on those whose families remain inside the country. Such is the case of Soheil Norouzi, an Iranian who has lived in Istanbul for over 13 years. “It’s very hard not knowing if my mother or my sister are okay,” he says. “Since communications were cut off, we don´t have any news from them. Are they alive? Do they need anything?” he asks himself. “What I do hear about is more deaths, more violence.”

An uprising fueled by economic collapse and fear

Since December 28, 2025, Iran has been gripped by widespread protests sparked by the country’s deteriorating economic conditions. What began as demonstrations against inflation, unemployment, and rising living costs quickly expanded to include broader demands, uniting tenants unable to pay rent, merchants affected by price volatility, and young women protesting restrictions on personal freedoms. Despite their different grievances, protesters share a common message: exhaustion with years of fear and instability.

As the demonstrations grew, chants calling for systemic change —including “death to the dictator”— became increasingly common. Authorities responded with force and imposed a nationwide internet blackout, severely limiting communication with the outside world. In the absence of reliable information, estimates from human rights organizations and independent groups suggest that the crackdown has resulted in thousands of deaths and widespread arrests, though the true scale remains difficult to verify.

Internationally, the situation has drawn close attention. The United States has stated that it is monitoring developments in Iran, while growing tensions in the region add further uncertainty to an already volatile scenario.

Living the protests from exile

From Istanbul, far from the streets where the protests are unfolding, Soheil Norouzi follows the events with the uneasy awareness of someone who is both safe and powerless. Exile has not severed his ties to Iran, but it has forced him into a different role: that of an observer whose connection to the uprising is shaped by distance, fear, and fragmented information. “I have a good life here,” he says, “but I haven’t cut my relations with Iran.”

Despite his physical distance, Norouzi has remained closely connected to events inside Iran. In the first days of the protests, when internet access was still available, he followed developments through social media and direct contact with people on the ground. That fragile connection was abruptly severed when authorities imposed a nationwide blackout.

“At the beginning, we could still see what was happening,” he explains. “Then, suddenly, everything went dark. And it was after the internet was cut that the massacre happened. In just two nights, more than 1,600 people were killed in the streets.”

An unsustainable everyday life

According to Norouzi, the protests did not emerge overnight. “The situation prior to the protests was unsustainable,” he says. “Sanctions made basic necessities extremely difficult to obtain, often forcing people to rely on the black market at prices far above their real value.”

While demonstrations initially began over economic grievances, he explains that years of accumulated frustration —combined with the government’s violent response— ultimately transformed them into something broader. “In previous years, Iran lived in great isolation from the rest of the world,” he adds. “With the arrival of the internet, young people realized how unfair their situation is compared to their contemporaries in other countries.”

Power, Religion, and Fear

Beyond the economic collapse and the immediate violence, Norouzi points to a political system built around absolute power. From his perspective, understanding the protests requires understanding how authority operates in Iran.

“Sometimes people in other countries don’t realise how much power the supreme leader has,” he says. “Since he links himself to God, he has the right to punish his people, almost like in the Middle Ages.” According to Norouzi, this fusion of political authority and religion shapes every layer of daily life.

“The police can do anything to defend the leader’s interests,” he adds. “They do it in the name of God, believing they will go to paradise for that.”

He also describes a society where religious identity is not a matter of belief, but of obligation. “In Iran, religion is imposed. You don’t have a choice. You are forced to pretend you are religious, even if you don’t believe.”

A generation without a future

For Norouzi, the consequences of this system are most visible among younger generations. Faced with a political structure they see as immovable, many no longer imagine change as a realistic option. Instead, leaving the country becomes the only conceivable future.

“The English level in Iran is very good, especially among young people,” he says. “That’s because they are all thinking about leaving, looking for a better future.” According to him, this outward-looking generation is driven less by ambition than by exhaustion.

“They don’t see any real possibility for Iran to change,” he adds. “There are no political ideas anymore. It feels like it can never be changed.” In this context, he describes the choice facing many Iranians as brutally narrow. “The ways to think about the future are very simple,” Norouzi says. “Either escape the country, like I did, or protest and fight knowing that you could die.”

The limits of exile

From abroad, however, political engagement often feels limited. Norouzi describes the Iranian diaspora as historically disconnected from decision-making inside the country, unable to exert real influence on events unfolding at home.

“Normally, the connection between the political problems in Iran and Iranians living outside the country is very low,” he says. “We don’t get to participate much. We don’t even feel like we can.”

In recent weeks, however, he has noticed a shift. Protests organized by Iranians abroad have taken place in several countries, offering at least a symbolic sense of solidarity. “I saw Iranians in Canada protesting in the streets at minus twenty degrees,” he says. “This is very exciting for me.”

Still, the prevailing feeling remains one of powerlessness. “It’s a feeling of helplessness,” Norouzi adds.

As the violence continues, Norouzi struggles to see a way out from within Iran alone. From his perspective, the imbalance of power between the state and protesters leaves little room for internal change.

“People on the streets have no weapons or effective ways to make the supreme leader go,” he says. “No matter how hard they fight inside, a revolution without outside help is impossible for Iran.”

It is from this sense of desperation that some of his most difficult conclusions emerge. “If I could choose between Trump attacking Iran or not, I would choose him to do it,” Norouzi admits. “I know how dangerous that is, how bad it has been throughout history, but I don’t see any other way.”

Yet, even the prospect of regime change brings no certainty. “The most important part would come after the fall of the supreme leader,” he adds. “I’m not sure the Iranian people have the political knowledge needed to avoid falling into another dictatorship.”

In the meantime, the violence continues to claim lives that resemble his own. “They are killing people like me,” Norouzi says. “People who speak my language, who are not politically active, who just want a better future.”