How a month of protests and threats brought Trump to Iran strike decision point

Iran’s US- based former ambassador to Germany Hossein Mousavian said that the Iranian President Masoud Pezeshkian should invite Trump to Tehran as a step toward de-escalating tensions which could crescendo into an attack that threatens the Islamic Republic’s rule.

“Trump genuinely wants direct talks with Iran,” he told outlet Ensaf News in an interview.

“Pick up the phone and speak to him. Do not waste time as the situation is critically dangerous … I repeat: if you do not act immediately, Iran may face military confrontation with the United States, Israel, and NATO.”

In a more sober assessment, Iranian political commentator Reza Nasri warned “unlike his predecessors, Trump can wage a swift and clean war against Iran without imposing additional costs on US taxpayers or repeating past mistakes.”

Nasri warned against complacency about some Trump’s more conciliatory messaging, saying “any premature optimism about de-escalation can lead to dangerous miscalculations by lowering the state of alert and imposing heavy costs on Iran’s security.”

The US threat comes after Trump vowed to come to the defense of protestors before authorities unleashed one of the deadliest crackdowns on unrest in modern history, killing thousands.

Nasri, cleaving to the theocracy’s official discourse, described the demonstrations as “one of the most difficult and complex threats in Iran’s recent history and a project aimed at disintegrating the country and collapsing its political system.”

“This project has failed for now,” he added. “But a combination of domestic crisis, foreign threats and economic and psychological warfare still looms.”

Meanwhile, hardline Tehran commentator and social media personality Ali-Akbar Raefipour raised the alarm to an even louder pitch, saying without providing evidence that foreign preparations for a complex armed attack were already underway.

“Mutiny and targeted assassination cells may be activated if Iran is attacked. Their goals include killing prominent individuals and seizing sensitive centers,” he wrote on X.

“In recent days, we have seen equipment flowing into Iran for these groups.”

Seyrafi was detained on January 26 outside his home in Tehran, they said. Authorities have not issued any statement on his arrest.

An informed source told Iran International he has been accused of cooperating with Israel's foreign intelligence agency Mossad.

Seyrafi had previously been imprisoned on national security-related charges and was released in October 2020 after serving seven years in prison.

Iran’s judiciary had accused him of spying for the United States and “collaboration with a hostile government,” charges frequently used against political detainees, activists and individuals working in sensitive fields like IT.

Human rights organizations have identified Seyrafi as one of dozens of prisoners previously held in Ward 7 of Tehran’s Evin Prison, where detainees facing national security accusations are commonly imprisoned.

A 2019 report by the Human Rights Activists News Agency (HRANA) listed Seyrafi among prisoners charged under Iran’s penal code provisions related to espionage and alleged ties to “enemy states.”

But Seyrafi has also been referenced in international cybersecurity research examining Iran’s early hacker networks.

A report published in 2013 by the ICT Cyber Desk at the Interdisciplinary Center (IDC) Herzliya in Israel identified Seyrafi — also known online as “Iman” or “iM4n” — as the first leader of a hacker group known as the “Emperor Team.”

The report credited him with involvement in the defacement of websites and subdomains belonging to major international platforms, including MSN and Yahoo.

Seyrafi and other members, it added, initially formed the group to gather information before later shifting into what he described in past interviews as “security activities,” including the development of basic cyber tools.

Some of the assertions cited in the report could not be independently verified.

Seyrafi’s rearrest comes amid increasing concern from rights advocates that Iranian authorities are treating digital expertise itself as a national security threat.

Iran, in this view, is a buffer—a state whose continued cohesion has helped secure Turkey’s eastern borders for decades, whatever its internal circumstances.

The prospect of that buffer weakening alarms Ankara far more than the nature of the demands driving Iran’s unrest.

That approach was underscored on Thursday, when President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan told Iran’s President Masoud Pezeshkian in a phone call that Turkey opposed any foreign intervention in Iran and valued peace and stability in the country.

The message echoed a broader pattern in Ankara’s response: caution, restraint, and a clear preference for preserving the status quo over endorsing political change.

Since the protests began, Turkish officials have framed developments in Iran as the erosion of central authority driven by outside forces.

Senior figures, including Erdoğan and Foreign Minister Hakan Fidan, have described the unrest as a “scripted scenario” and warned against what they portray as foreign efforts to push the region toward chaos.

At the core of this stance lies a long-standing fear that instability in Iran could open space for militant groups along Turkey’s eastern and southern frontiers, even as a peace process with Kurdish militants has made historic progress after decades of combat.

The Syrian precedent

This security-first reading of events reflects a fear expressed from corners of Turkey’s media and academic establishment that if the Islamic Republic were to collapse, Turkey could be next.

As a result, Iran’s protests are often explained away through the language of conspiracy—foreign plots rather than expressions of domestic discontent—making meaningful democratic solidarity between the two societies more difficult at a moment of profound crisis.

Years of economic strain at home and unresolved entanglements in Syria have further heightened Ankara’s sensitivity to instability beyond its borders.

Few Turkish policymakers are eager to risk a scenario that could trigger new refugee flows after the epic out-migration of Syrians fleeing that country's civil war strained Turkey's domestic cohesion and stoked bitter arguments with Europe.

Support for armed insurgents in that war did not render the hosting of millions of Syrian people on Turkish soil any easier, and Turkey has shown no such fondness for any anti-state elements in Iran.

Ankara’s caution has also been shaped by its regional calculations since the war in Gaza. Turkish officials are acutely wary of being seen as aligned with Israel, particularly as Israeli leaders have spoken openly in favor of regime change in Iran.

In Ankara’s reading, Western rhetoric about democracy masks a broader realignment that would ultimately strengthen Israel’s regional position at Turkey’s expense. Weakening Iran, they fear, could expand Israeli influence in ways that leave Turkey strategically exposed.

Some Turkish analysts have warned in recent days that the government should be less concerned about Iran losing a conventional conflict than about what might follow. A weakened Iranian state, they argue, could rely on proxy forces and non-state actors to drag the region into a prolonged, asymmetric struggle.

Fear of what may come next

From this perspective, preventing war in Iran is a strategic necessity. A collapse of authority inside Iran could empower Kurdish groups such as the PKK or its Iranian affiliate, PJAK, and test Turkey’s security more severely than the Syrian civil war ever did.

The fragmentation of Syria remains a vivid reference point: a power vacuum, the emergence of armed enclaves, and a long-term security burden that Ankara is still struggling to manage.

These fears help explain why the refrain “if Iran falls, Turkey is next” has gained traction in Turkish media.

Turkey’s main opposition party, the Republican People’s Party, has largely aligned with the government’s cautious approach. Even media outlets critical of Erdoğan have, at times, reinforced narratives that external actors are driving the violence in Iran.

The relative absence of support from Turkey’s secular movements for protesters in Iran also reflects the limited reach of Iranian opposition groups in neighboring countries.

Turkish officials often say they would prefer an Iran that is more developed and better integrated into the international system. But the uncertainty surrounding Iran’s political trajectory—and the perceived costs of a turbulent transition—continue to outweigh that aspiration.

For now, Ankara’s overriding objective remains stability: not because it approves of Iran’s system, but because it fears what might come after it.

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.

During mass killings by security forces in the Tehranpars area east of Tehran on January 9, Hamid Arzanlou was shot in the head and Vahid was shot twice in the neck while trying to save him, according to sources close to the family.

Both brothers later died from their wounds.

At their funeral, a third brother Kiomars Arzanlou asked mourners to clap if they believed his brothers had chosen the right path, and the mourners responded by applauding the two Arzanlou brothers.

According to the sources, security agencies demanded more than one billion tomans (about $6,670) from the relatives in exchange for handing over the bodies.

Hamid and Vahid, the sources added, actively supported and helped organize walkouts during the early days of strikes in Tehran’s central bazaar beginning late last year.

The large‑scale strike on January 7 at the furniture market in the Delavaran district was organized partly through their efforts and became one of the biggest strikes in eastern Tehran.

Sources close to the family say the two brothers were also among the first on the streets on the night of January 8, standing alongside other protesters for hours before security forces unleased a two-day crackdown which killed them along with thousands of other demonstrators.

Hamid and Vahid were owners and managers of the Aysa Mobl Kian furniture company which is one of the best‑known brands in Iran’s furniture industry.

At its peak, this group created jobs for at least one thousand people directly and indirectly and employed about 200 workers directly.

The two brothers hailed from a working‑class family and grew up in Tehran’s Khak‑e Sefid neighborhood and had built up wealth through their hard work and thrift, the sources added.

Vahid was the father of three children while Hamid is leaves behind two young children. Their mother, 68, survives them.