A new wave of protests has taken shape in Iran over the past several days, starting in Tehran’s Grand Bazaar and quickly spreading to other parts of the capital and a number of major cities.
What began as strikes and gatherings by shopkeepers – driven by collapsing sales, soaring rents, and a rapidly devaluing currency – soon turned into evening and nighttime street demonstrations. Political chants moved beyond the marketplace and into public spaces across the city.
In Iran’s political system, the bazaar has long been a place of adjustment rather than confrontation. Its willingness to absorb pressure and find ways to survive has often helped the regime weather economic storms. That is precisely why the bazaar’s return to open protest matters. This is not a routine dispute over prices or taxes; it is a sign that the old methods of coping are no longer working.
Economic problems driving protests in Iran
The immediate causes are economic and obvious. Iran’s economy is stalled, the rial continues to slide, prices rise faster than incomes, and many merchants can no longer cover basic expenses such as rent or taxes.
Even groups that have traditionally avoided political risk – bazaar merchants above all – appear to have reached a breaking point. When this segment of society stops trying to adapt and instead chooses defiance, it points to a deeper failure in the regime’s social contract.
What makes this round of protests different, however, is how quickly they have taken on a political character. The slogans heard on the streets no longer focus only on economic hardship. They point directly at the system itself. Nowhere is this clearer than in the language protesters are using.
In earlier protest waves, chants like “Reza Shah, may your soul rest in peace” could be brushed aside as symbolic or nostalgic. That excuse no longer holds. Protesters are now openly chanting “This is the final battle, Pahlavi will return,” “Long live the Shah,” and naming the Pahlavi dynasty without hesitation, as heard in widely circulated footage and reporting from inside of Iran.
Iranian society has learned from past protests – especially those of 2021 and 2022 – that ambiguity does not protect people from repression. It only allows the state to blur demands and rewrite the story. Many protesters now seem convinced that if they are going to pay a price, they might as well be clear about what they are demanding. The result is a new bluntness, one that leaves little room for interpretation.
Growing monarchist sentiment
The prominence of Pahlavi symbolism should not be dismissed as marginal or symbolic. It reflects a real and growing monarchist sentiment among Iranians, one that goes well beyond nostalgia. At the same time, it also points to a broader search for a tangible and recognizable alternative to the Islamic Republic.
For many Iranians, “Pahlavi” represents not only a preferred political form but a vision of a secular, national, and predictable state – one governed by institutions rather than clerical ideology. Whether this vision aligns perfectly with historical reality is less important than the fact that it now serves as a clear point of political reference in opposition to the current system.
Just as important is what these protests are not. They are not framed around gender, ethnicity, or generational identity. They are not expressed in the language of social movements or activist subcultures. The tone is national. Slogans such as “Neither Gaza nor Lebanon, my life for Iran” reflect frustration with the regime’s ideological priorities abroad and a desire to refocus on life and dignity at home.
The state’s reaction has only reinforced this reading. Official media have shifted between denial, minimization, and warnings about foreign plots or the return of monarchy. This lack of a consistent narrative is telling. Governments that feel secure do not fixate on slogans they consider irrelevant. The nervous attention paid to Pahlavi references suggests that the authorities understand the political meaning behind them.
So far, the security response has relied mainly on riot police and localized force. The regime has avoided full-scale deployment of the Revolutionary Guards or the Basij. This restraint should not be mistaken for confidence. It reflects calculation. The leadership appears aware that escalation carries real risks at a moment when economic despair competes directly with fear.
This moment does not yet amount to a revolution in the classical sense. Without cracks inside the security apparatus, what Iran is experiencing remains a series of protests rather than outright collapse. Still, history shows that this phase – when legitimacy is openly questioned and an alternative is named – is often the most dangerous for entrenched regimes. It is also the point at which misjudgments are most likely.
For policymakers, this matters. Treating these protests as temporary economic unrest or as another call for reform misses the shift underway. A society that openly identifies an alternative to the ruling system has crossed an important line.
Western and regional governments should take note: Assumptions about stability no longer align with what is happening on the ground, and strategies built on the regime’s long-term durability may rest on fragile ground.
Even if the current protests fade for now, they will not simply disappear. The language has changed, and with it the limits of what can be said publicly. Many Iranians are no longer talking about fixing the system. They are talking about replacing it. Once that line is crossed, it is rarely erased.
Navid Mohebbi is an independent Iran expert living in Washington, DC. Follow him on X: @navidmohebbi
Aidin Panahi is an Energy and Industrial Policy expert focused on Iran. Follow him on X: @Aidin_FreeIran