What began as scattered protests over economic hardship in several Iranian cities was quickly repackaged by Western media into something far more dramatic: a supposed nationwide uprising against the Islamic Republic. Headlines were rushed, videos recycled, and familiar narratives dusted off about the “end of the regime.” Yet, as events unfolded on the ground, it became increasingly clear that what was taking shape was not a spontaneous revolt—but a carefully engineered attempt to turn social pressure into a geopolitical weapon.
Iran’s economy is under undeniable strain. Years of US-led sanctions have penetrated every sector of daily life, from energy and banking to agriculture and even basic trade. In such conditions, social discontent is neither surprising nor illegitimate. What is revealing, however, is how swiftly these grievances were hijacked. Western outlets and Persian-language platforms linked to exiled opposition groups flooded social media with old footage, exaggerated casualty figures, and breathless claims of an imminent collapse—creating a media reality that bore little resemblance to the scale or character of what was actually happening inside Iran.
The same pattern has played out before. Each wave of economic protest is immediately reframed abroad as a political insurrection, while the actual social and political fabric of Iranian society—complex, plural, and deeply nationalistic—is ignored. Exiled figures such as Reza Pahlavi, whose real influence inside Iran is negligible, are elevated into “leaders” of a movement that largely does not recognize them. Without Western amplification, such actors would remain what they are: marginal voices disconnected from the street.
Trump, Behlavi, and the Architecture of External Escalation
What made this round different was how openly Washington stepped in. US President Donald Trump did not merely comment on events; he actively tried to shape them. Repeating his familiar threat: “We will strike Iran if they kill protesters”, Trump sent a clear message not to Tehran, but to those engaged in vandalism and armed disorder: the state would be punished if it defended itself. It was a classic tool of hybrid warfare-encourage escalation, then use any response as a pretext for international pressure or military action.
At the same time, Reza Pahlavi publicly appealed to Trump for intervention, even as he vacationed abroad while urging Iranians to confront their own government. Inside Iran, his name is often followed by a single word: “dishonor.” The image of a foreign-backed pretender calling for war on his own country only reinforced what many Iranians were already beginning to suspect—that their legitimate grievances were being weaponized by forces that did not care about reform, but about collapse.
“Israel”, for its part, played a subtler game. While Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu spoke of supporting the “Iranian people,” Israeli officials were instructed to keep public comments to a minimum. Behind the scenes, however, Israeli security analysts were far more candid. A prominent Hebrew-language intelligence channel acknowledged that Tel Aviv’s goal was to weaken the Islamic Republic—but warned that open Israeli involvement would only unify Iranians against a foreign enemy. The preferred method, the channel suggested, was indirect: funding, arming, and amplifying destabilizing groups while maintaining plausible deniability.
How Iran Turned a Crisis into a Strategic Counter-Move
At the political level, the turning point was crystallized in the address of Iran’s Supreme Leader, Ayatollah Sayyed Ali Khamenei, who deliberately avoided both panic and triumphalism. In a measured tone, he distinguished between legitimate social demands and what he described as organized sabotage carried out by “mercenaries in the service of foreign powers.” The message was calibrated: economic grievances were acknowledged, but violence, arson, and attacks on public institutions were framed as an assault on Iran’s sovereignty, not as expressions of dissent. By drawing this line publicly and unambiguously, Imam Khamenei deprived Washington and its proxies of their most effective propaganda tool — the ability to blur social frustration into regime-change theater.
Iran’s official response also exposed the plot
In a rare and dramatic diplomatic move, Tehran summoned the ambassadors of Britain, Germany, France, and Italy and presented them with documented footage of armed groups, arson, and coordinated attacks on security forces. This was not crowd control gone wrong—it was organized sabotage. By putting evidence on the table, Iran shifted the narrative from accusation to confrontation, challenging Western governments to explain why the violence they were defending looked so much like an intelligence-driven operation.
On the streets, the effect was equally striking. President Masoud Pezeshkian appeared among massive crowds in Tehran, with millions rallying across social, ethnic, and political lines. The message was unmistakable: whatever frustrations existed, the majority of Iranians rejected foreign-engineered disorder. The attempted destabilization had triggered the opposite of what its architects intended—national cohesion.
Even Washington seemed to take note. The tone of US statements softened, and talk of immediate military action gave way to calls for “restraint” and “dialogue.” Israeli assessments, too, reflected unease that any overt move could backfire, uniting not only Iranians but much of the international community against them. For a moment, the machinery of escalation stalled.
This was more than a tactical pause; it was a strategic reversal. Iran had turned a vulnerability—economic protest—into a diplomatic and political counteroffensive. By exposing the external manipulation behind the unrest and mobilizing its social base, the Islamic Republic demonstrated that it remains far from the fragile caricature portrayed in Western newsrooms.
The lesson is uncomfortable for those who bet on Iran’s collapse. The country is not simply a government to be toppled, but a society with a strong sense of sovereignty forged through decades of siege. Attempts to exploit hardship to impose regime change do not weaken that bond—they strengthen it.
What the world witnessed was not the beginning of the end of Iran’s political system, but the failure of yet another attempt to dismantle it from the outside. From protests to plot, the transformation was swift—and so was Iran’s response.
Source: Al-Manar English Website