Inside the Dairy of the Uprising in Iran: Secret Burials, Collective Rage, and the Desperate Wait for American Intervention
A rare firsthand account emerging from the Islamic Republic depicts a nation psychologically fractured by economic collapse and state violence, where citizens are reportedly burying their dead in private gardens to avoid government retribution and whispering in cafés about the possibility of U.S. military strikes to end their "47 years of captivity."
Published by the Haaretz, a diary From Inside Iran offers an unprecedented window into Iranian society following the violent suppression of nationwide protests in early January. The anonymous diarist, writing from an undisclosed urban location, describes a psychological landscape dominated by "collective rage" and a paradoxical dread that Washington might choose diplomacy over confrontation with a regime now viewed by many citizens as irredeemable.
The testimony, published Wednesday, chronicles the aftermath of demonstrations that began January 8, when thousands defied security warnings to flood streets in Tehran, Shiraz, and Tabriz. According to the diarist, government forces responded with lethal force including sniper fire, resulting in casualties so numerous that morgues could not process the bodies. In particularly harrowing passages, the author describes families forced to pay "shooting fees"—charges for the bullets that killed their relatives—before being allowed to collect remains, and others compelled to conduct secret burials on private property to avoid arrest or confiscation of their loved ones' bodies by security services.
"They washed the streets, but they cannot wash the memory," the diarist writes, describing how regime crews systematically erased evidence of the massacre within hours, scrubbing bloodstains from asphalt while simultaneously maintaining internet blackouts to prevent documentation. Despite these efforts, images reportedly leaked via satellite connections reveal burned government ministries, demolished banks, and graffiti marking a stunning historical inversion: walls that once bore the slogan "Death to the shah" now display "Long live the shah," signaling what the author calls an irreparable rupture in the collective memory of a nation that overthrew its monarchy in 1979.
The economic context appears equally dire. The diary details an inflation crisis hitting "one of the highest levels in the past 47 years," with cooking oil prices quadrupling and basic staples becoming unaffordable for the working class. Labor strikes that began in Tehran's bazaar last autumn expanded into a national movement involving truck drivers and small towns, only to be met with what the author describes as "handouts" of one million tomans (approximately $800)—a sum that allegedly intensified public anger rather than quelling it.
Perhaps most striking is the account of popular expectations regarding American foreign policy. "Wherever I go—to the supermarket, the bakery, the café—the same words are repeated," the diarist records. "When is Trump going to attack?" This anticipation does not stem from warmongering, the author clarifies, but from a profound despair that no internal mechanism remains to dislodge the regime. The fear haunting Tehran's streets, according to the testimony, is not of conflict, but of negotiation—specifically, that the United States might strike a deal with a government now seen as having forfeited its legitimacy through massacre.
Social dynamics within the country have reportedly collapsed into suspicion and silent vendettas. The diarist describes how citizens are compiling photographs and names of security personnel and civilian collaborators involved in the crackdown, sharing them via encrypted social media pages organized by city. In one chilling observation, the author notes recognizing a former neighbor—a regular at local cafés—among the faces of suppressors, realizing that "trust has collapsed" between ordinary people.
"The desire for revenge has become a collective emotion," the testimony states, describing funerals where families dance on graves to Hayedeh's pre-revolutionary songs—deliberately violating Islamic Republic sharia laws—as acts of "anger, hatred and defiance." Yet despite this fury, the diarist notes an absence of political planning for a post-regime future. Conversations about toppling the government remain "hesitant, with glances, with sentences that remain hanging and incomplete," while discussions of what might replace the Islamic Republic are notably absent.
"The city now resembles a place that is deliberately not building its future," the author concludes, "because all its energy is being invested in concluding the present."
The diary emerges as international observers report that Iran has entered a new phase of instability following the economic shocks of the previous summer's 12-day war and subsequent labor unrest. While official state media maintain the narrative of regional strength, the testimony suggests a starkly different reality behind closed doors: a population exhausted not merely by economic hardship but by the psychological torture of waiting—"waiting for news, waiting for the fall, waiting for the attack, waiting for the end."
As one passage grimly notes, summarizing the modest aspirations of a generation that came of age under sanctions and surveillance: "Not a hero, not a savior, not great promises. Only what they have been deprived of for years: a regular life."
Photo: Haaretz