For Mojdeh and her husband, the question of US intervention in Iran is personal. In early January, they travelled from their home in Washington, DC to Tehran to visit family - expecting a short, routine trip. Instead, protests spread, flights were cancelled and they found themselves stranded in a city that no longer felt predictable. Life was on pause, Mojdeh said, especially at night, when the internet and even phone networks went dark. They did not plan to protest. But on the nights of 7 and 8 January, she said, it was impossible to remain uninvolved.
If you left your house, you saw it, she said. The BBC has changed her name to protect her and her husband's identities. One evening after eating in a restaurant, they stepped outside to find the city transformed: crowds filled the streets and in some areas, security forces appeared to have lost control. It felt like people had occupied Tehran, she said.
Protests erupted across Iran just before the new year, driven by anger over economic hardship and a collapsing currency, but quickly escalated into calls for an end to the Islamic Republic. Days later, security forces responded with deadly force.
The true death toll is difficult to verify, due to an internet blackout in Iran and the lack of independent reporting. The US-based Human Rights Activists News Agency (HRANA) said it confirmed more than 6,000 protesters dead, while Norway-based Iran Human Rights said the final toll could exceed 25,000. Iranian authorities said at least 3,117 people were killed, but claimed most were members of security forces or bystanders, blaming the deaths on rioters.
US President Donald Trump has repeatedly voiced support for Iranian protesters. On Friday, US and Iranian officials held talks, though expectations remain low. Onboard Air Force One later in the day, Trump said the talks were very good, and that Iran looks like it wants to make a deal very badly.
Mojdeh's voice faltered as she described her homeland during the protests: people running, shouting, beaten - scenes that stayed with her long after they managed to leave Iran. Her husband was shocked for another reason: Among friends and family in Iran, the idea of US military involvement was not considered an attack, he said. It was help.
The couple, living safely in the US, understand the desperation but remain sceptical that such action could deliver what protesters ultimately want - not just regime change but dignity, economic security, and freedom. From a distance, they worry about the cost of mistaking destruction for salvation.
Weeks after the deadly crackdowns on anti-government protests and the near-total internet blackout, Iranians still wrestle with whether the US should intervene. Shirin, an Iranian-American living in California, hopes for foreign intervention. If the international community truly wants to stop the violence and prevent further global instability, action is required, she said.
However, some Iranians worry that intervention could hurt their loved ones still living under the regime. Roozbeh Farahanipour, once imprisoned in Iran for his student activism, told the BBC he's constantly worried about US intervention, stating that while there should be global help, regime change should come from within.
Ali, 43, who has lived in the US for 21 years, sees little hope for reform. He argues that without outside pressure, the regime cannot be defeated, though he does not call for a full-scale invasion, rather targeted strikes aimed at state infrastructure. Hemad Nazari, an Iranian activist now in Denmark, believes intervention is the only option, echoing many voices from Iran expressing frustration with the status quo.
Even as protests have quieted, repression continues in other forms. Iran Human Rights (IHRNGO) estimates that at least 40,000 people have been arrested since protests began. The internet blackout has only partially eased, but many services remain unreliable or blocked.
For Iranians at home and abroad, the debate over US involvement is no longer theoretical. It is shaped by grief, fear, and exhaustion — and a growing sense that time may be running out.
If you left your house, you saw it, she said. The BBC has changed her name to protect her and her husband's identities. One evening after eating in a restaurant, they stepped outside to find the city transformed: crowds filled the streets and in some areas, security forces appeared to have lost control. It felt like people had occupied Tehran, she said.
Protests erupted across Iran just before the new year, driven by anger over economic hardship and a collapsing currency, but quickly escalated into calls for an end to the Islamic Republic. Days later, security forces responded with deadly force.
The true death toll is difficult to verify, due to an internet blackout in Iran and the lack of independent reporting. The US-based Human Rights Activists News Agency (HRANA) said it confirmed more than 6,000 protesters dead, while Norway-based Iran Human Rights said the final toll could exceed 25,000. Iranian authorities said at least 3,117 people were killed, but claimed most were members of security forces or bystanders, blaming the deaths on rioters.
US President Donald Trump has repeatedly voiced support for Iranian protesters. On Friday, US and Iranian officials held talks, though expectations remain low. Onboard Air Force One later in the day, Trump said the talks were very good, and that Iran looks like it wants to make a deal very badly.
Mojdeh's voice faltered as she described her homeland during the protests: people running, shouting, beaten - scenes that stayed with her long after they managed to leave Iran. Her husband was shocked for another reason: Among friends and family in Iran, the idea of US military involvement was not considered an attack, he said. It was help.
The couple, living safely in the US, understand the desperation but remain sceptical that such action could deliver what protesters ultimately want - not just regime change but dignity, economic security, and freedom. From a distance, they worry about the cost of mistaking destruction for salvation.
Weeks after the deadly crackdowns on anti-government protests and the near-total internet blackout, Iranians still wrestle with whether the US should intervene. Shirin, an Iranian-American living in California, hopes for foreign intervention. If the international community truly wants to stop the violence and prevent further global instability, action is required, she said.
However, some Iranians worry that intervention could hurt their loved ones still living under the regime. Roozbeh Farahanipour, once imprisoned in Iran for his student activism, told the BBC he's constantly worried about US intervention, stating that while there should be global help, regime change should come from within.
Ali, 43, who has lived in the US for 21 years, sees little hope for reform. He argues that without outside pressure, the regime cannot be defeated, though he does not call for a full-scale invasion, rather targeted strikes aimed at state infrastructure. Hemad Nazari, an Iranian activist now in Denmark, believes intervention is the only option, echoing many voices from Iran expressing frustration with the status quo.
Even as protests have quieted, repression continues in other forms. Iran Human Rights (IHRNGO) estimates that at least 40,000 people have been arrested since protests began. The internet blackout has only partially eased, but many services remain unreliable or blocked.
For Iranians at home and abroad, the debate over US involvement is no longer theoretical. It is shaped by grief, fear, and exhaustion — and a growing sense that time may be running out.
