Iran International
Tehran is once again tiptoeing around the issue of gasoline prices under the long shadow of November 2019 protests that became one of the bloodiest crackdowns in the Islamic Republic’s history.
Fuel prices are among the most politically volatile subjects in Iran. Even the suggestion of a change triggers anxiety across the political system.
As the popular news website Bartarinha warned this week: “The country’s fragile condition … is such that even raising the possibility of price increases can trigger a wave of apprehension and unpredictable reactions.”
The memory driving those fears is never far. Six years ago, a sudden overnight hike in gasoline prices—50% for subsidized fuel and far more above quota—sparked nationwide unrest within hours.
It was one of the fastest-spreading waves of dissent since 1979 and remains a raw national trauma.
“Those who witnessed Aban 98 can never laugh from the bottom of their hearts for the rest of their lives,” an X user going by his first name Hamed wrote, referring to the unrest by its name in the Persian calendar.
“We have just stayed alive to see the day of revenge.”
Risking reform
Economists say the current model is untenable: the real cost of imported gasoline has risen to 700,000 rials (around 65 cents) per liter, while subsidized retail prices remain just over 1 cent per liter.
The burden on the government’s budget is estimated at $6 billion this year.
President Masoud Pezeshkian has vowed to overhaul Iran’s vast and costly subsidy system, but the political danger is hard to ignore.
Authorities insist the monthly quotas (60 liters at 1.3 cents and 100 liters at double that) will remain unchanged, at least for now. Every statement from officials is carefully calibrated to reassure and to avoid even the perception of a looming price hike.
Shadow of Aban
The 2019 protests were not just about fuel; they exposed deeper anger over corruption, inequality and political inertia. But it was gasoline that lit the fuse.
The shock announcement came in the early hours of 15 November, without debate or warning. Within hours, demonstrations spread across dozens of cities, many in working-class communities hit hardest by inflation and sanctions.
Protesters quickly turned to broader political slogans, including calls for the overthrow of Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei.
The state responded with speed and unprecedented force. The country was cut off from the global internet for nearly a week, making independent reporting almost impossible. Security forces used live ammunition, often aimed at heads and torsos, according to rights groups.
Amnesty International confirmed at least 321 deaths; Reuters, citing Iranian officials, reported about 1,500.
Thousands were arrested. Some—like Erfan Saberi-Movahed—disappeared and remain missing. At least two protesters, Kamran Rezaei and Hani Shahbazi, were later executed on charges of “waging war against God.”
For Iran’s political class, Aban 98 remains the ultimate cautionary tale, a potent reminder of how quickly economic frustration can ignite national revolt.
And that is why, six years later, even whispering about gasoline prices continues to terrify Tehran.
Tehran’s unveiling of a towering statue depicting the Roman Emperor Valerian kneeling before pre-Islamic Persian King Shapur I has renewed criticism of the Islamic Republic’s appeal to nationalist sentiment following the June war with Israel.
For over forty years, the theocracy purged ancient Persian history from schoolbooks, replacing it with post-Islamic narratives. But after the 12-day conflict with Israel, officials have turned to the distant pre-Islamic past to rally a divided society.
From murals of ancient kings and soldiers to patriotic songs added to Shi’ite mourning ceremonies performed before Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei, Tehran now embraces imagery once deemed heretical by its own revolutionary ethos.
'Kneel before Iran' campaign
Tehran’s Revolution (Enghelab) Square was the scene of an unusual spectacle on Friday as officials unveiled a massive bronze statue depicting Roman Emperor Valerian kneeling in submission before Sassanid King Shapur I, commemorating Iran’s victory at the Battle of Edessa (260 AD).
The event was held under the slogan “Kneel before Iran,” part of what authorities describe as a campaign to project “national unity and historical pride” following the June war with Israel.
Tehran Mayor Alireza Zakani, a staunch ultraconservative, said on X: “Enmity with Great Iran can only end in kneeling before this historic nation.”
Municipal official Davood Goodarzi said the installation would be accompanied by visual displays depicting “other victories of Iranians over foreign aggressors,” including the defeat of British forces by local commander Rais-Ali Delvari, Mirza Kuchak Khan’s resistance against Russian troops, and Surena’s triumph over Rome at the Battle of Carrhae in 53 BCE.
The goal, Goodarzi said, is “strengthening concepts such as national dignity, social unity, and Iranian identity.”
The statue, he said, would remain temporarily at Revolution Square before being moved to a city gateway “where it will stand as the first emblem of Iran before diplomats and foreign visitors.”
Unveiled women were allowed to attend the unveiling ceremony—an uncommon scene at events organized by Tehran’s ultra-hardline municipality.
The turn to the pre-Islamic past
The sharp reversal also recalls remarks once made by Khamenei. In a 2011 speech, he asserted that “all the great military victories of this nation came after Islam,” dismissing pre-Islamic accounts as “things that are not documented.”
In 1987, he had said that prophets triumphed over kings such as Cyrus and that “nothing remains of these monarchs in history but names remembered with derision.”
Nevertheless, pro-government social media accounts have now gone so far as to circulate posters equating Khamenei himself with Shapur, showing him standing with a staff as Benjamin Netanyahu and Donald Trump kneel before him. The caption reads: “You will kneel before Iran.”
'Hypocrisy'
Pro-government figures have hailed the move as a patriotic success. Conservative political reporter Hossein Saremi posted: “Today’s grand Iranian gathering showed that people and the state share one essence: Iran itself. Nothing can take our homeland away.”
Others, however, called the spectacle “hypocrisy.” Journalist Gholamhossein Pashaei wrote on X: “Every year you close Pasargadae to stop people from celebrating Cyrus Day, yet you unveil Shapur’s statue in Enghelab Square with drums and fireworks during Fatimiyya (mourning period)!”
Dissident commentator Hamid Asafi called the ceremony “a perfect snapshot of the Islamic Republic’s contradictions.”
On Telegram he wrote: “A week ago they closed Cyrus’s tomb out of fear of the crowds, and now they glorify Shapur in the same breath. The Islamic Republic fears living history but poses for selfies with its corpse.”
He added: “They know people no longer respond to rosaries and sermons. That’s why they’ve brought history back to the stage—in a controlled costume. If they can’t erase the past, they’ll try to own it.”
The irony deepened as UNESCO formally recognized Cyrus’s Charter as one of the earliest human-rights documents.
President Masoud Pezeshkian wrote on X: “Iran, the cradle of dialogue, justice, and coexistence, can still inspire peace today.”
Users swiftly replied, questioning how such pride could coexist with a government that blocks access to Cyrus’s tomb each year to those wishing to visit it on his birthday.