Googoosh, a towering figure in Iranian pop music history, told the Associated Press in an interview published on Friday she would not produce new work until after the fall of the Islamic Republic.
“I prefer to leave my artistic work for a day when the Islamic Republic no longer exists in my country,” she said.
Embarking on a farewell tour, she framed her decision within the wider social shifts unfolding in Iran, particularly the growing rejection of the compulsory hijab and the generational frustration she believes now defines the country.
“We are seeing our youth, especially women, fighting for their most basic rights,” she said, describing a society confronting economic strain, political repression and demands for ordinary freedoms.
Defiance of compulsory veiling is now widespread in Iran as women and girls appear in public without headscarves in one of the most visible social shifts since Mahsa Amini’s death in 2022.
The pressures facing a new generation, Googoosh said, have accelerated her own sense of responsibility as an artist.
“People in my country are struggling to give their families an ordinary life. They struggle for clean water, clean air, and land where they can live. Our young people grew old without ever enjoying their youth. Our people must end this painful cycle and gain the freedoms every human being deserves.”
Iran’s rulers have long relied on strict hijab enforcement by police and Basij forces. The current situation comes amid persistent power cuts, water shortages and a weakened economy, all of which risk fueling further anger.
A life shaped by stardom and silence
Born Faegheh Atashin, she entered the spotlight as a child performer and quickly became one of pre-revolution Iran’s most recognizable cultural figures. Her look, voice and stage presence shaped an entire era of Iranian pop culture.
After the 1979 revolution, she remained in Iran and spent two decades barred from performing under the new theocracy, facing surveillance, harassment and a period of imprisonment. When authorities finally allowed her to leave in 2000, she resumed her career abroad, launching a revival that connected her with Iranians who had long been cut off from her music.
“After the revolution, the pressure on me grew,” Googoosh said. “Since Farsi is my mother tongue and I grew up in Iran, I could not adjust to living outside my country. I did not want that life. I hoped I could somehow continue performing for my own people, inside my own country.”
“This sentence happened in the middle of this process, but I will finish this campaign and go back to Iran as soon as possible after,” Variety magazine quoted Panahi as saying at the Marrakech Film Festival in Morocco.
“I have only one passport … the passport of my country, and I wish to keep it,” Panahi added. “Although I was given the opportunity, even in the hardest years, I never considered leaving my country and being a refugee elsewhere.”
Panahi’s remarks come after his lawyer, Mostafa Nili, announced the prison sentence issued against the filmmaker in absentia earlier this week.
Nili said the sentence includes a two-year travel ban and bars him from membership in political or social groups, adding that they plan to appeal.
Panahi, whose movies have repeatedly brought him into conflict with Iranian authorities, said he is aware of the risks of returning.
“I know my films don’t please the government,” he said. “But that’s not a reason for me not to go back to my country.”
Panahi’s latest film, It Was Just an Accident, inspired by his experience as a political prisoner, is France’s submission for the Oscars and screened at the Marrakech festival on Thursday.
It was filmed in secret in Iran and follows the moral journey of a group of former political prisoners who believe they have captured their torturer.
In May, Panahi received the Palme d’Or at the 78th Cannes Film Festival for the film.
Panahi has faced restrictions and arrests for more than a decade.
He was sentenced in 2010 to six years in prison and a 20-year ban on filmmaking, travel and giving interviews, though he continued to work in secret. In 2022, he was detained again and spent seven months in prison before launching a hunger strike that led to his release in early 2023.
Lean is a mixture made by combining cough syrups containing codeine with sweetened beverages. The name lean refers to the sedating effect of codeine, which can make users feel unsteady or inclined to recline.
Long popular abroad and popularized in some corners of American hip hop culture, the habit is potential fatal.
It is sometimes known as purple drink because certain cough syrups contain dyes that turn the mixture violet, though local versions in Iran often appear in other colors depending on the medicines used.
The mixture, according to the expert, spreads easily because it can be prepared with medicines already found in many Iranian homes or purchased cheaply over the counter.
Alcohol and drugs are strictly forbidden in the Islamic Republic, and authorities have executed hundreds of people this year accused of drug offenses.
But basic codeine syrups and antihistamines require no special authorization, making the drink inexpensive, discreet and accessible to young people with limited means.
'Highly addictive'
The counsellor, who asked not to be named due to security concerns, said the mixture first surfaced in parks and schoolyards where teenagers gather after long days in classrooms where education is often by rote and has a strong focus on ideological content conforming to the ruling theocracy.
Students, she said, were searching for “something that breaks the monotony” after hours spent in lessons centered on ideological narratives and obligatory religious themes.
She described the drink’s beginnings as “born out of boredom,” saying that many adolescents felt they had no engaging place to spend their time.
“Recreation is squeezed, cultural choice is narrow and even access to a simple beer is criminalized,” she said. “When all conventional outlets are shut, young people invent alternatives.”
Lean is a highly addictive mixture that slows the body’s functions and can cause drowsiness, euphoria, nausea, dizziness, visual disturbances and hallucinations.
Mixing it with alcohol or sedatives greatly increases the risk of dangerously slowed breathing, low oxygen levels, brain injury, seizures, coma or death.
Long-term use can damage teeth, impair memory and vision and lead to serious heart and breathing problems.
Government oversight
Health professionals say the drink spread quietly because Iran lacks a unified system to track unusual purchases of over-the-counter medicines. Basic cough syrups containing codeine are widely available, and the country’s fragmented regulatory framework does not flag high-volume sales or patterns of youth misuse.
A Tehran pharmacist, Omid, said its abuse was predictable.
“When oversight is inconsistent and pharmacies operate without shared monitoring tools, teenagers can gather ingredients unnoticed,” he said. “These medicines sit in almost every home, and no authority has built a mechanism to prevent misuse.”
Omid told Iran International that the state’s regulatory posture has long focused on punitive measures against alcohol while failing to address practical gaps in the medical supply chain. “The priorities are mismatched,” he said.
Education system failure
The trend, according to the counsellor, also reflects shortcomings within classrooms where students rarely receive consistent health education or clear information about the dangers of misusing common medicines.
Instead, timetables remain filled with obligatory ideological material that leaves little room for life-skills programs or discussions about adolescent well-being.
Parents, the counsellor said, receive almost no guidance from schools on the needs of Gen Z or the pressures they experience. “Families are left to guess what their children are going through,” she said.
“Instead of equipping parents with tools, the curriculum focuses on messaging that feels distant from young people’s realities.”
Many teenagers, she added, report feeling disconnected from school content and turn to private rituals and drink simply to “break the cycle” of pressure they cannot voice openly.
Families on their own
Parents who encounter the issue typically do so after it has taken root. This late detection, according to the pharmacist, reflects a systemic failure.
“There is no coordinated pathway between schools, clinics and households,” he said. “Warnings come only after the consequences appear.”
Gen Z’s experimentation, the counsellor added, reflects unmet needs rather than deliberate risk-taking. “If young Iranians had engaging cultural venues, balanced schooling and genuine recreation, this drink would never have become a pattern.”
The two experts said the drink’s spread among 13- to 28-year-olds is a direct product of policy choices: narrow social freedoms, numbing school content, criminalization of ordinary leisure, fragmented pharmaceutical oversight and insufficient support for parents.