I was born in Iran. I was 4 when the 1979 Islamic Revolution changed everything. Overnight, the country I knew was taken over by extremists led by the Ayatollah Khomeini. Soon after, the U.S. embassy in Tehran was seized, political opponents and religious minorities were imprisoned or executed and fear became part of everyday life.
Students were forced to chant slogans against America, and it was a forbidden word in the media. Instead of saying the word “America” on the news or in lectures, they said “The Great Satan!” Leaders promised they would remove the USA and Israel from the map of the world. That was why they started making a nuclear bomb — to target U.S. military bases and attack Israel. But the people of Iran loved America; they wanted peace.
While ordinary people struggled to find food, the regime poured national wealth into foreign militias and proxy groups. Billions were spent on wars and on anti-American influence abroad while Iranian families sank deeper into poverty. Hospitals and schools were built in Gaza while our own infrastructure collapsed.
Whenever Iranians protested, the response was brutal. Internet access was cut off to hide the crackdown. Security forces fired on crowds. Thousands were arrested. Thousands more were killed. Each family in Iran carries stories of loss, prison, disappearances or graves, without justice.
In January, millions once again went into the streets. Young and old, men and women, workers, students, parents, all saying the same thing: We do not want this regime anymore. Snipers and machine guns answered them. Thousands died — mothers, fathers, sons, daughters, people whose only crime was wanting dignity and freedom. We know now that unarmed people cannot defeat this tyranny. Iranians are not asking for chaos, but to be rescued. We do not want to become another Iraq, Libya or Syria. We want a peaceful transition, a chance to rebuild our country ourselves.
The tragedy is that this regime survives in a crisis. It survives on fear. It survives on always having an enemy, foreign or domestic, to justify repression at home. Chaos keeps them alive. Conflict keeps them in power. As long as this system remains, peace in the region remains fragile, and the suffering of ordinary people continues.
On Saturday, we found out that Ali Hosseini Khamenei and dozens of his commanders were reportedly eliminated during Operation Epic Fury. We celebrated it. We took to the streets of our cities, including Bellevue, and danced.
Please be our voice, the people of Iran. Every time my family hears the sound of fighter jets, they say, they tremble. Every time a bomb goes off, the windows shake, and after a few minutes, people go up to the rooftops and celebrate. They chant thanks to the United States of America, which came to our rescue. Please see their resilience and do not stop until we can transfer power to Crown Prince Reza Pahlavi.
This is not a war; it is a rescue mission. This is not starting a war; it is ending one.
And last but not least, it is not about Democrats or Republicans. It is not the time to attack your president. It’s time to stand behind him. Wouldn’t you be ashamed to have the biggest army in the world tuck its tail between its legs and run away from a bunch of tiny mullahs? Let us win, and this story of freedom will be recounted for centuries — the freedom and peace that the great United States of America brought to the Middle East. Let us have peace in the Middle East, once and for all.
