On 8 January, an exiled Iranian opposition leader issued a call for mass protests against the country’s unpopular ruling system. Large numbers of Iranians responded, filling the streets in cities across the country. The state responded with lethal force and killed a number of demonstrators, fuelling popular outrage and widespread international condemnation. This sequence of events could have been from 8 January 1978, and the protests preceding Iran’s Islamic Revolution; but it could equally describe the extraordinary wave of unrest that has erupted in January 2026.

Iran has now experienced two weeks of nationwide social mobilisation, which was sparked when shopkeepers began striking in Tehran’s Grand Bazaar over economic collapse, but rapidly expanded into a broad political challenge to the Islamic Republic. Protests now span over 180 cities across all 31 provinces, thousands are estimated to have been killed, and the state has imposed a communications and internet blackout.

At first glance, the course of events appears to resemble earlier protest cycles – namely protests in 2009, 2017–18, 2019, and 2022–2023 – all of which escalated into systemic challenges against the regime that were violently suppressed.

This time, however, appears to be different for three reasons: the existence of an alternative endorsed by a segment of protesters on the ground that echoes the movement of 1978-9, the increased potential of foreign intervention, and state weakness. Taken together, these factors suggest that the current mobilisation poses the most serious challenge the regime has faced to date.

Protest movements in the Islamic Republic over the past decade have generally not articulated a specific alternative to the existing political order. Protest slogans have tended to coalesce around a shared rejection of the Islamic Republic itself, with chants like ‘death to the dictator’ (marg bar diktātur) ubiquitous.

Videos currently coming out of Iran indicate that protesters, just as they have done in the past three protest movements, are calling for an end to the Islamic Republic. What distinguishes the current moment, however, is the prevalence of chants advocating for a specific alternative: Reza Pahlavi. In the early days of the movement, Radio Zamaneh found that around 20 per cent of chants called for Pahlavi, the son of Iran’s deposed Shah, to return to Iran. While still a minority compared to chants opposing the Islamic Republic as a whole, this represents a new development compared to previous movements – and certainly a far cry from the chant ‘death to the tyrant, whether a Shah or a Supreme Leader’ (marg bar setamgar, che shah bashe che rahbar) that was prevalent in the 2022 protests. Pro-Pahlavi chants are also accompanied by protesters’ use of pre-revolutionary symbols in the protests, harkening to a time when his family ruled Iran: in various parts of the country, for example, protesters have taken down the flag of the Islamic Republic and replaced it with Iran’s pre-revolutionary lion and sun flag.

In departing from the protest movements of the past two decades, these pro-Pahlavi manoeuvres ironically more closely resemble the dynamics of the 1979 Revolution. In 1979, while many slogans denounced the Shah – such as ‘death to the Shah’ or ‘death to the dictator’ – a significant portion of protest chants explicitly articulated an alternative political vision. Protesters did not merely reject the existing order; they voiced support for a concrete replacement, advocating Islamic governance under Khomeini through slogans such as ‘independence, freedom, Islamic Republic’ (esteghlal, azadi, jomhuri-ye eslami) and ‘God is Great and Khomeini is our leader’ (Allahu akbar, Khomeini rahbar).

Pahlavi himself, in addition to being a symbol, appears to have a mobilising power: after he issued a farākhān (call to action) on social media for 8 January, protesters responded by occupying the streets in what became the largest mobilisation of the protest cycle – and chants in his favour have likely increased above the 20 per cent seen in the early days of the protest. One can only be reminded of the mobilising power Khomeini wielded from his exile in Paris, where his calls to action routinely brought hundreds of thousands of people into the street. Though protesters do not universally support him, the Pahlavi Factor should not be underestimated.

Past protest movements in the Islamic Republic were distinctly domestic, unfolding without foreign intervention. Here, too, the current episode marks a potential departure. American president Donald Trump stated that the US is ‘locked and loaded’ to ‘come to the rescue’ of Iranian protesters. This is not an empty threat: over the summer, after routinely threatening Iran due to its nuclear program, Trump struck three Iranian nuclear sites – an unprecedented American attack on Iran. More recently, Trump’s capture of Venezuelan President Nicolás Maduro highlights the fact that he is not reluctant to confront his enemies.

Israel has also taken an active role in these protests. According to Mike Pompeo, Trump’s former Secretary of State, Israeli intelligence is operating on-the-ground. The Israeli government also maintains a close relationship with Pahlavi. Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu met with him in 2023, and members of his cabinet have openly advocated regime change in Iran under his leadership.

Taking account of foreign intervention is important because such intervention has repeatedly shaped moments of political change in modern Iranian history – especially in regard to the Pahlavi Dynasty. In 1921, British military officers backed Reza Khan (who would become Reza Shah Pahlavi), Reza Pahlavi’s grandfather, to become Iran’s strongman to impose order on Iran and protect British interests. Two decades later in 1941, after Reza Shah declared neutrality in the Second World War, the United Kingdom and Soviet Union invaded Iran, forced him into exile, and crowned his son Mohammad Reza Pahlavi as Shah. Then, in 1953, after Iran’s democratically elected Prime Minister Mohammad Mossadegh nationalised the Iranian oil industry, at the expense of British oil interests, the UK and US deposed him in a coup – largely facilitated by the CIA’s presence on the ground in Tehran – giving Mohammad Reza Pahlavi absolute power.

It is crucial, however, to distinguish the present moment from earlier episodes of foreign interference associated with the Pahlavis’ ascent to power. Unlike in 1921, 1941, or 1953, this protest movement is not the product of foreign orchestration, but rather a genuinely popular mobilisation originating inside Iran. The significance of foreign powers today lies not in their manufacturing the movement as they did previously, but rather in their potential to influence its outcome. Indeed, if foreign influence does increase, it will likely prove consequential.

The potential role of external powers matters precisely because the Islamic Republic today is uniquely weak when compared to previous moments of unrest over the past two decades. Many of the Israeli strikes in the 12-Day War targeted the Islamic Republic’s repressive apparatus: it has been noted that Israel killed roughly one third of the officials involved in the previous crackdown on protesters in 2022. This, along with the scale of mobilisation, which surpasses any protest movement since the 1979 Revolution, will make repressing these protests much more difficult for the regime. Notably, demonstrators, unlike in previous movements, have even chanted for members of the security forces – affected by the economic downturn – to join them. These chants are new and, again, more closely resemble the 1979 Revolution, in which both revolutionary leaders and ordinary protesters encouraged the army to join the people.

The Islamic Republic is also facing an unprecedented economic crisis and is increasingly isolated at the regional level. Hamas and Hezbollah have both been significantly weakened, and, with the overthrow of the Assad regime, Iran no longer has a state ally on Israel’s border. This erosion of Iran’s regional network has fundamentally weakened its ability to deter Israel from directly attacking Iran, as evidenced by the 12-Day War, which Israel likely could not have initiated if that network had remained intact.

Iran has clearly reached a tipping point. This is not to say, however, that a revolution is inevitable. Unlike 1979, there has been no mass defection from the army or security forces yet (though there have been individual cases). On the contrary, a recent army statement indicates that it will stand by the regime. Further, unlike the Shah, who in the days leading up to his departure famously declared that he had ‘heard the revolution of the Iranian people’, Ayatollah Khamenei has conferred no such legitimacy on the demands of the protesters and appears to be ready to confront them with the full repressive apparatus of the state. Indeed, the internet and communications blackout has likely been imposed to enable security forces to repress protesters without fear of the international optics, as occurred in 2019.

Even if a seismic, systemic change does take place, we cannot know what it will look like. Foreign powers could put Pahlavi on the throne; the US could see this as an opportunity to cut a deal with factions within the regime open to doing business with them, as it appears to be doing in Venezuela; or the state could collapse under the unprecedented economic pressure. Nevertheless, what is certain is that the present protest movement marks a qualitative break from the cycles of unrest that have preceded it. Many protesters are voicing their support for an alternative, foreign powers are not shy to intervene, and the regime is confronting this challenge while incredibly weak. Taken together, these dynamics amount to a unique threat to the Islamic Republic, and, whatever the outcome, Iran will never be the same.