Iran online sales fall 80% during internet shutdown, union head says
Iran’s internet shutdown has cut online business sales by as much as 80%, the head of the union of virtual businesses said on Wednesday, warning of serious damage to the digital economy.
“Many online businesses have seen their sales fall by up to 80%,” Reza Olfatnasab said.
About one million people earn a living directly through sales on social media platforms and are now in limbo, he said.
“If this situation continues, it can really push the digital economy toward destruction,” Olfatnasab added.
The expression gained traction during the 12-day war with Israel in June, when Khamenei largely disappeared from public view amid reports that he had moved into a fortified underground shelter.
While Iranian officials did not confirm his location at the time, state media limited his presence to a pair of prerecorded video statements, which appeared to be filmed from a bunker rather than his office.
Since then, new reports have reinforced the perception of prolonged seclusion.
According to sources who spoke to Iran International on condition of anonymity, Khamenei has again taken refuge in an underground facility in Tehran amid heightened concerns about a potential US strike amid the recent wave of nationwide protests.
The site is described as a fortified complex with interconnected tunnels, with his son, Masoud Khamenei, overseeing day-to-day operations and serving as the main conduit between the leader’s office and the government.
In Persian, “moush” (rat) is a common metaphor for timidity or avoidance, particularly when someone is perceived as retreating from danger rather than confronting it. By pairing the word with Khamenei’s name, critics draw a sharp contrast between the image he has long cultivated – of a steadfast leader and commander-in-chief – and his physical absence during moments of acute national crisis.
The nickname has also taken on a visual dimension. Protest imagery circulating online depicts rats in clerical robes or emerging from underground tunnels, reinforcing the association between concealment and political weakness.
One chant that includes the term – “Cry out, Moush-Ali, Pahlavi is coming” (Zajjeh Bezan Moush-Ali, Dareh Miad Pahlavi) – links the insult to broader political demands and signals a rejection not only of Khamenei personally, but of the authority structure he represents.
For analysts, the spread of the phrase points to something deeper than mockery. Khamenei’s extended absence during the war, followed by reports that senior officials struggled to reach him directly, has raised questions about leadership visibility and continuity.
While political slogans in Iran have evolved before, the rapid adoption of “Moush-Ali” shows how language becomes a vehicle for social judgment – compressing complex grievances about power, accountability, and legitimacy into a single, resonant word.
In that sense, the term is less about insult than about perception: a reflection of how authority is being re-imagined, contested, and, increasingly, stripped of its aura.
