I’m not arguing that any system guarantees freedom, or that corruption doesn’t exist in democracies—it does.

What matters is lived reality: whether people can speak, organize, and resist power without being erased for it. Autocracy doesn’t remove corruption; it removes the ability to confront it.

Camus once framed the tension clearly: when forced to choose between abstract justice and living freedom, he chose the freedom that allows one to stand against injustice. Without that freedom, justice is just a word enforced by power.

That’s the line Iranians are fighting over—not perfection, but the right to challenge authority without death as the answer.

don’t disagree with most of what you wrote. Power rarely acts out of concern for nations’ rights, and sanctions, media narratives, NGOs, and even activism are all entangled with interests and infiltration. We’ve seen how pressure can harden regimes, militarize society, and create economies that profit from suffering.

I also agree that military intervention would destroy Iran as a society, not “liberate” it. And yes—media selects, distorts, and instrumentalizes, often turning real pain into useful narrative.

But knowing all this doesn’t leave only silence. It leaves responsibility.

Speaking isn’t about trusting the international system or believing in clean allies. It’s about refusing to let the regime be the only voice speaking for this country. It’s about preserving internal social memory, dignity, and the idea that we are more than a geopolitical object.

Pressure can be misused—but silence guarantees only one outcome: normalization of repression.

I don’t speak because I believe in NATO, sanctions, or corporate media. I speak because giving up our voice means surrendering the future entirely to forces that don’t care about us at all.

ممنونم از صداقتت. حرف‌هات دردناک بود، ولی لازم بود. ببخش اگه جوابم هم طولانی شد.