Did Trump’s Game with the Islamic Republic Halt the Lion and Sun Revolution, or Make It Burn More Fiercely?

S. Rouzbeh – Has the Islamic Republic managed to contain the anger of the Iranian people with the shadow of war, military threats, the Strait of Hormuz crisis and the spectacle of an “external enemy”?

And are the people of Iran still waiting for Trump, Netanyahu or foreign powers, or have they come to understand that only the Iranian nation itself can bring this government to an end?

During these months, as Iran is caught between the threat of war, crippling inflation, medicine shortages, a stagnant market, exorbitant rents, mourning for the dearly departed and dozens of other problems, the people of Iran have been caught up in the daily games between Tehran and Washington. A serious question has taken shape in many people’s minds: have these crises delayed the Lion and Sun Revolution, or, on the contrary, deepened and inflamed the thirst for overthrowing the regime throughout society?

The answer is not simple. In the short term, the Islamic Republic’s warmongering and Trump’s political games may have slowed street protests, and people may stay off the streets in response to the Crown Prince’s announcement. This is because war brings fear. Fear makes people cautious. A family worried about food, medicine, rent, their children, military service, bombing and … the future will naturally think about protecting life and getting through everyday life rather than taking to the streets, at least for a while. The government exploits precisely this situation: it casts every domestic protest under the shadow of an “external threat” and silences every dissenting voice by branding it “collaboration with the enemy”, then executes people after extracting forced confessions and …

But that is only one side of the story. More importantly, these same crises have made the true face of the Islamic Republic clearer. More than ever, people can see that this government brings neither security, nor economic salvation, nor the preservation of Iran. Every few days there is a new game: one day, a threat to close the Strait of Hormuz; the next, a missile exercise; the day after, talk of negotiations; then, threats against America again; then claims of victory; and then another crisis. This perpetual cycle of crisis has not calmed society; it has further eroded public trust.

People who are now facing inflation, a slump in business, medicine shortages, the collapse of the national currency and the pressures of daily life are no longer asking only about the “external enemy”. Their main question is: why should a country with so much wealth, so many resources, such a long history and such a capable population have to live in a constant state of emergency? Why are people losing their jobs and becoming unemployed? Why has the internet been cut off for a third month? And why should people’s lives be held hostage to the survival of an ideological government?

On the other hand, some in society may once have imagined that Trump, Netanyahu or foreign pressure could finish off the Islamic Republic. From a humanitarian perspective, helping the people of Iran and weakening the regime would benefit the people and the Lion and Sun Revolution. But the experience of the region has shown that no foreign power presents a nation with freedom on a silver platter. America has its own interests, Israel has its own interests, and Europe follows its own calculations. They may put pressure on the Islamic Republic, but they cannot decide in place of the people of Iran or finish the job for them.

This is where real hope is separated from illusion. Real hope means people understand that they are not alone, but do not wait for an outside saviour either. Real hope means that, if there is foreign pressure, it must serve the people of Iran, not replace them. Crown Prince Reza Pahlavi has also repeatedly emphasised this point: Iran’s future must be decided by the Iranian people themselves. Not through foreign war, not through occupation, not through imposition from outside, but through the will of the Iranian nation.

War may empty the streets for a while, but it does not dispel society’s anger. War does not bury the revolution; if people understand that war, too, is part of the government’s arsenal for survival, that same fear can turn into political awareness. The Islamic Republic may be able to buy time, but the price of that time is a further erosion of its own legitimacy.

If the Lion and Sun Revolution were only a street slogan, perhaps fear and repression could silence it. But having become bound up with the symbol of reclaiming Iran, it is no longer just a flag: it is a sign of a return to national identity, Iranian history and a future without ideological rule. If this hope is accompanied by organisation, civil disobedience, strikes, the spread of awareness, and connections between people inside and outside the country, it can turn from feeling into force, and, like a vast, surging flood, eradicate the foundations of this criminal regime from top to bottom.

Human beings live on hope, but nations move forward through organised hope. The hope of the Iranian people must not be tied to Trump and Netanyahu; it must be tied to Iran itself, to the Iranian people and to the national will to put an end to this situation. People in Iran and abroad must keep this hope alive in their hearts and make it burn more fiercely.

“Organised hope” is different from simple optimism. Optimism says: “One day, everything will be all right.”

But organised hope says: “If society remains aware, connected, purposeful and persistent, change is possible.”

Hope without structure collapses after a few defeats; but organised hope rebuilds itself even after repression, imprisonment, inflation or temporary setbacks.

In fact, governments usually rule not only with batons, but by “making effort seem futile”. They try to bring people to the point of believing:

“Nothing ever changes.”

“They’re all the same.”

“Nobody is on our side.”

“Protesting is pointless.”

“It’s all over.”

Organised hope is precisely the opposite of this mental erosion.

Hope remains alive when people feel that they are still “participants”, not merely “spectators”.

A society that does nothing but wait for Trump, war, sanctions or foreign intervention will gradually be worn down. But a society that believes it can still make a difference, even in difficult circumstances, will slowly overcome its fear. That is why organised hope is not merely a feeling; it is a form of mental, social and historical resistance.

The ultimate question is not whether the Islamic Republic has managed to delay the revolution for a while. The more important question is this: have these very crises led people to conclude that the root of all this suffering lies in the Islamic Republic itself?

The streets may seem quieter for a while, but beneath the surface, a bigger question has emerged: “How much longer must Iran pay the price for the survival of a government that brings neither peace, nor bread, nor security, nor a future?”

And it is precisely at this point that hope is no longer a slogan; it is the beginning of a decision.