Iran International
An Iranian singer who won a Grammy for a ballad which became the unofficial song for a scotched national uprising in 2022 has incurred fury for announcing the release of an album which received an official state license.
Earlier this week, he revealed that digital and physical pre-orders for his debut record, Real, were open on his website—a surprise to many after he had recently complained of new restrictions, including being barred from gyms and concerts.
Hajipour gained international recognition in 2022 with Baraye, the song widely associated with Iran’s Woman, Life, Freedom protest movement and winner of the Grammy for Best Song for Social Change.
His arrest soon after the song went viral, and the pressure that followed, made him one of the most visible cultural figures linked to the unrest, which authorities quashed with deadly force.
The approval of his album by Iran’s culture ministry quickly drew criticism from dissidents who argue that official licenses remain a privilege often withheld as punishment for dissent.
‘Privilege is privilege’
“You’re not the people’s Shervin,” wrote Sheldon, a dissident account with nearly 250,000 followers. “You’re a regime-made figure. If you were anything else, you’d have been eliminated like thousands of artists of this homeland.”
Others framed the license as a symbol of privilege in a politicized system. “Privilege is privilege,” wrote X user Arash Aalam, “whether it’s tiered internet access or permission to distribute an album when others are deprived of such a natural right.”
Hajipour hit back on social media.
“I finally managed to release my album after three years of being banned from working and unemployment,” he wrote. “How does that contradict the collective interests of our people? I don’t want to leave Iran. I just want to work … May I die if I ever betrayed anyone.”
Hajipour has released unlicensed songs in the past couple of years, including Ashghal (“Trash”), which became one of the most-watched Persian music videos of the year with nearly 30 million views in the first 24 hours.
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‘Lynching from afar’
The artist’s popularity was apparent in many sympathetic posts on social media.
“I’m angry that Shervin applied for a permit, but I won’t forget his song reached everyone’s ears and created such remarkable emotional unity during the protests,” wrote Mahsa on X, vowing not to let the state “destroy that unity.”
Some had harsher views about his critics, pointing fingers at dissidents outside Iran. “This is not criticism, it’s lynching by the mob,” wrote Tehran-based journalist Hossein Yazdi on X.
“Dirty and cowardly lynching from behind keyboards with fake accounts, by the very ones who sip hundred-dollar coffee in the best places in the world while prescribing do's and don't's to a young artist inside Iran who was brave enough to speak of the people's pain.”
Against permits
The dispute comes amid a broader shift in Iran’s cultural sphere.
Since the widespread protests of 2022, many artists have chosen to work without permission, refusing to submit their creations for government vetting.
Filmmakers have produced entire features inside the country without permits—often defying hijab mandate and other rules—and sent them directly to international festivals.
Musicians, visual artists and writers have similarly turned to unlicensed work, forming a parallel creative economy outside the state’s control.
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