Polish MEP Dominik Tarczyński wrote “Make Iran Great Again” as he shared an image of exiled Prince Reza Pahlavi and a message vowing to “defeat the unholy red-and-black alliance by the SHAH in Tehran,” in a post on X on Tuesday.
The phrase, originally used by Iran’s last king, Mohammad Reza Shah, refers to the alliance of leftist “red” forces and Islamist “black” clerics that helped overthrow the monarchy in 1979, a trope still invoked in monarchist discourse to blame the revolution on a coalition of communists and the Shiite clergy.
Protesters in Iran have appealed to US President Donald Trump for help, videos sent to Iran International on Tuesday show.
In one video, a woman holds a sign reading: “Trump, a symbol of peace. Don’t let them kill us.” In another video from Iran, a slogan painted in red on a concrete wall reads: “Trump a symbol of truth. Don’t let them kill us.”
“President Trump has sent a clear message to Iran and its terrorist proxies. These terrorists have killed Americans and they will try again,”US Senator Tom
“The Iranian regime must never be allowed to rebuild its nuclear and ballistic missile programs put our troops, our allies, and America at risk,” he added.
Seven Iranian Kurdish opposition parties have issued a joint call for a general strike on Thursday, in support of nationwide protests and in condemnation of what they described as the “crimes of the regime in Kermanshah, Ilam and Lorestan.”
They said they strongly condemned the crackdown on demonstrations and the detention of protesters, describing it as a "long-standing policy of the Islamic Republic regime."
They called on all political parties and civil organizations to “take a united and collective stance against the crimes of the Islamic Republic regime and join this call.”
The statement was signed by The Kurdistan Democratic Party of Iran; Komala Party of Iranian Kurdistan; Kurdistan Free Life Party (PJAK); Komala, Kurdistan Organization of the Communist Party of Iran; Revolutionary Komala of Toilers of Iranian Kurdistan (Komala); and the Kurdistan Organization of Khabat.

The public relations office of Tehran University of Medical Sciences, which oversees Sina Hospital, said tear gas was not deliberately fired inside the hospital during Tuesday’s protests, according to a statement carried by IRGC-affiliated Tasnim.
“During the recent protests, clashes occurred between some protesters and law enforcement forces on streets around and in front of the hospital,” the statement said.
“In the process of dispersing the crowd, tear gas was used in the alley adjacent to the hospital,” adding that “unintentionally, some of these materials moved toward the hospital space,” the statement added.

As Venezuela enters a volatile phase following Nicolas Maduro’s capture by US forces over the weekend, Iran’s strategic investments in the country’s oil refining sector are facing a sudden and uncertain reckoning.
For more than a decade, these ventures—framed as anti-imperialist cooperation between two heavily sanctioned states—served political purposes rather than a commercial ones.
They were designed to circumvent US sanctions, monetize Venezuela’s vast but increasingly stranded crude reserves and provide mutual economic lifelines. Their durability depended on the survival of aligned governments in Tehran and Caracas.
With the interim government in Caracas signaling openness to cooperation with the United States, Iran’s refinery projects risk shifting from sheltered geopolitical instruments into exposed financial and legal liabilities.
The fallout threatens not only Tehran’s assets in Venezuela but also the broader sanctions-evasion model it has refined across multiple theaters.
A partnership shaped by sanctions
Iran’s partnership with Venezuela dates back to the early 2000s, when Presidents Hugo Chavez and Mahmoud Ahmadinejad forged a relationship rooted in shared defiance of Washington.
Cooperation deepened after 2019, as US sanctions tightened around both Iran’s oil exports and Venezuela’s state oil company, PDVSA.
Iran supplied refinery repairs, gasoline and blending components; Venezuela provided heavy crude, gold, and other commodities. Both sides relied on barter, opaque contracts and shadow shipping networks to bypass sanctions.
The model kept fuel flowing during acute shortages and helped stabilize the Maduro government—but it never made commercial sense. Venezuela’s refineries never recovered, while Iran absorbed mounting costs in exchange for political influence.
A refinery bet that never paid
Iran’s most visible engagement centered on El Palito, a 140,000-barrel-per-day refinery in Carabobo state.
In May 2022, Tehran signed a $117 million contract with PDVSA to repair and expand the facility. By mid-2024, Iranian officials said they had managed to restore operations to about 20 percent of capacity amid chronic power outages and feedstock shortages.
Iran’s oil minister hailed El Palito as the country’s first overseas-built refinery—a symbolic milestone with limited operational impact.
Tehran’s ambitions extended to the much larger Paraguana Refining Center, Venezuela’s flagship complex with a nominal capacity of nearly one million barrels per day.
Leaked documents from late 2025 suggest Iran-linked projects in Venezuela totaled roughly $4.7 billion, underscoring the scale of exposure and the opacity surrounding the relationship.
These refinery projects formed part of a broader sanctions-evasion ecosystem.
In 2020 alone, Iran shipped more than 1.5 million barrels of gasoline and blending components to Venezuela. In return, Venezuelan oil revenues were routed through informal channels that helped sustain Tehran’s finances.
Beyond oil
The relationship also spilled into security and finance.
Iran supplied drones and military equipment, while Washington accused Hezbollah-linked networks operating in Venezuela of laundering money tied to senior Maduro-era officials.
Maduro’s removal marks a structural break: Iran’s Venezuelan strategy relied on political shielding rather than enforceable contracts.
President Trump has framed the transition as a US-led stabilization effort, with American energy companies positioning themselves to reenter Venezuela’s oil sector.
Interim authorities face pressure to attract foreign investment, secure sanctions relief, and manage the potential return of millions of displaced Venezuelans—priorities that favor transparency and compliance over legacy deals with sanctioned partners.
A sudden exposure
A US-aligned Venezuelan government is likely to reopen PDVSA contracts signed under Maduro, subjecting them to audits and potential legal challenges.
Iranian-linked assets could face expropriation or forced divestment, while Tehran’s unpaid claims for refinery work—estimated in the hundreds of millions of dollars—remain unsecured.
Operational displacement is likely to follow.
Western firms operating under renewed licensing frameworks are expected to take priority in refinery rehabilitation, sidelining Iranian equipment that engineers have often criticized as less reliable.
Tehran has pursued similar arrangements in Syria and elsewhere, using infrastructure repairs and energy swaps to monetize sanctioned oil and project influence.
A Venezuelan unraveling could embolden US enforcement against these networks, disrupting a system that has sustained an estimated 1.5 to 2 million barrels per day of Iranian oil exports despite sanctions.
Oil markets add another layer of consequence.
Venezuela holds the world’s largest proven reserves but produces less than one million barrels per day. A successful rehabilitation could lift output substantially over the coming years, increasing global supply and weakening Iran’s leverage within OPEC+.
Iran’s refinery investments in Venezuela were ultimately a wager on political alignment over economic fundamentals. With that alignment now broken, assets once protected by geopolitics are newly exposed to scrutiny, displacement, and loss.
For Venezuela, disentangling from Iran offers a path toward recovery under external oversight.
For Iran, it offers a harsher lesson: sanctions-evasion strategies endure only as long as political shields hold. When they collapse, the workaround becomes the liability.






