I grew up in Tehran during the war. As a child, I slept under a wooden bed propped up by my mother’s medical books, hoping they would protect me if the windows were shattered by Iraqi bombs. Explosions have become a part of everyday life. Anyone who has experienced that kind of fear does not romanticize war. It leaves scars that last a lifetime.
For nearly half a century, the Islamic Republic has portrayed itself as a victim of external aggression, as if the conflict were imposed on it. It is a very powerful and misleading story. What it erases is a long pattern of decisions that made confrontation more likely.
From the beginning, the regime reshaped Iran through force and ideology. Over time, elections became controlled performances. Dissent was criminalized. Journalists were imprisoned. The demonstrators were beaten, shot, and their voices were silenced. When the government closes every door to reform, the pressure does not disappear, but rather increases.
In Iran, construction has been taking place for decades.
This pressure is felt most by ordinary people who live under surveillance and periodic Internet outages. Women are subject to laws that control their bodies and deprive them of equality.
Ethnic minorities – Kurds, Baloch and Arabs – face systematic discrimination. Religious minorities, especially Baha’is, are deprived of education and opportunities. The judiciary functions as part of the security apparatus, and dissent can lead to imprisonment – or worse. This is not just a judgment; It is a constant struggle between the state and its society.
The regime has expanded this conflict beyond its borders. It has spent decades building proxy networks across the Middle East, supporting militant groups in Lebanon, Syria, Iraq and Yemen and supporting organizations such as Hamas. It has made hostility part of its identity — threatening Israel, clashing with U.S. allies, and pursuing nuclear and missile capabilities with far-reaching implications. From the seizure of the US Embassy in Tehran to attacks on US targets in Beirut, this pattern has been consistent.
It is not surprising when conflict breaks out. It is the result of accumulated choices. The current war did not arise in a vacuum.
However, the cost is not paid by those who make those decisions. And ordinary Iranians are paying for it – through sanctions, isolation, inflation and currency collapse. It is paid in lost opportunities, in the quiet exodus of a generation forced to leave simply to build a future.
I am one of them.
What many outside Iran do not understand is that Iranians are not waiting for foreign powers to save them. There is no illusion that freedom can come from without. But there is a growing recognition that when the regime weakens – when its vast security apparatus begins to crack – change that once seemed unthinkable can become possible.
It is crucial to separate Iran from the Islamic Republic. Iran is an ancient nation, rich in culture, talent and potential. The Islamic Republic is a political system that has restricted this possibility while dragging the country into cycles of repression and conflict. They are not the same, and treating them as if they were only deepens the misunderstanding.
On the streets of Iran today, fear and hope coexist. People prepare for the consequences of conflict while holding on to the belief that something better can emerge from it.
When every peaceful path to change is blocked, the alternatives become more dangerous. The desire for change does not disappear, but is pushed into more volatile forms. In this reality, power may begin to appear less as an option and more as the result of a system that has made all other options impossible. This does not make it desirable. But it makes it understandable.
To describe those who recognize this fact as “pro-war” is to misunderstand them. No one who has lived through war wants more of it. What they want is to end the conditions that make war inevitable.
This is not an excuse for endless conflict. It is an argument for clarity. Because peace is not merely the absence of war, but rather the existence of a system that does not depend on oppression at home and confrontation abroad. As long as this regime exists, peace will remain elusive.
I left Iran years ago, but I never left it behind. I still carry the memory of a country that knows not only suffering, but also resilience, creativity and extraordinary potential.
This is the Iran worth fighting for. It is not what the world sees today.
Nezam Masaghi, MD, is an Iranian-American physician. “His diary”Passport to Freedom: From Tehran to Victory“ Available for pre-order and will be released in September 2026. @nizammissaghi