For most of my career as an education reform advocate, I have rarely spoken publicly about my Iranian identity. Like many immigrants who arrived after the Iranian Revolution, our instinct was to blend because most people knew Iran from the hostage crisis when more than 50 Americans were detained in the U.S. Embassy in Tehran for almost 15 months. I remember a summer vacation in Spain when my parents told a family we met that we were Greek, a funny identity to sustain given that none of us had ever been to Greece or spoke the language.
But now, as an Iranian American, who lived in Iran during the revolution and early days of the Iran-Iraq war, I have been asked many times in recent days what I think about the war in Iran. The question is usually posed as if there is a single answer or as if one perspective can capture what millions of Iranians and other people of Iranian descent feel. People use the expression: Two things can be true at the same time. With Iran, many contradictory things are true simultaneously.
Above all, and before I tell you my own complicated view of what is happening, I want to invite educators to see their important role in understanding this war and other international crises. Moments like this offer opportunities for classrooms to explore conflicts through multiple lenses, and nowhere is this more true than with Iran.
With that said, most Iranians (in and out of Iran) condemn the brutality of the regime that has ruled the country since the 1979 revolution. Ayatollah Sayyid Ali Khamenei’s leadership of Iran was defined by repression and violence. Dissidents were jailed or executed. Ethnic minorities faced discrimination and persecution. Since the revolution, Iran has had six major uprisings, resulting in thousands of Iranian dissidents being killed by their own government. All of this has been carried out in the name of Islam, something that should trouble Muslims and non-Muslims alike.
What’s more, the Islamic Republic was born from a revolution that promised liberation from autocracy. Yet, in many ways, it created an even more restrictive society.
My own family’s story reflects that reality. When I was 13 years old, I was arrested and jailed for two nights in Tehran’s notorious Evin prison for failing to comply with the regime’s rules regarding the hijab. Shortly after that experience, my family made the painful decision to leave Iran.
But another truth is equally important: No Iranian wants Iran to be bombed, and no one wants innocent civilians and political activists endangered. So far, the war does not seem to have shaken the power of the current regime. The new supreme leader is widely viewed as more hard-line than his father, who he replaces, and even less likely to negotiate the current nuclear deal desired by the United States.
Reports of schoolchildren killed in airstrikes, historic sites like the Golestan Palace damaged, and political prisoners facing renewed danger are devastating for Iranians everywhere. The human cost of war is never abstract when your relatives, childhood neighborhoods, and cultural landmarks remain there.
I worked for Vice President Dick Cheney when the attacks of 9/11 occurred. In the months that followed, the administration sought and received congressional authorization before launching wars in Afghanistan and Iraq. Those decisions would later become controversial for many reasons. But the process itself, seeking authorization from Congress and explaining the strategy, mattered.
The world’s difficult conflicts rarely fit into neat narratives of good and evil.
Today, Americans are watching events unfold in Iran without a clear sense of the plan, the objectives, or the path forward. That uncertainty should concern anyone who cares about democratic governance or global stability.
History also complicates the picture. Most note the West’s involvement in 1953 when Prime Minister Mohammad Mosaddegh (who had successfully pushed for nationalization of parts of Iran’s oil industry ) was overthrown in a coup supported by Western governments. The memory of that moment still shapes the suspicion with which many Iranians view the West today.
The muted response to government atrocities in Iran from left-leaning political and advocacy organizations here and abroad has been eye-opening and discouraging. Groups that ostensibly fight for human rights, women’s rights, and LGBTQ rights have had little to say about how these rights are violated in Iran as the groups might be accused of Islamophobia or support for imperialism. Progressive activist and comedian Chelsea Hart has been documenting this contrast in a series of provocative social media posts.
With journalism and communication (including the internet) tightly controlled by the Iranian government and the stakes high, propaganda flourishes. In an era shaped by misinformation and AI-generated narratives, skepticism is understandable. But skepticism should not mean ignoring the voices of the people who are living through these events.
Reliable information and understanding are where educators can play an important role. Students can learn about Iran’s ancient civilization, its intellectual traditions, and its complicated modern history. They can examine how authoritarian regimes suppress dissent and whether peaceful protests can be effective. They can grapple with difficult questions about international intervention, democracy, and human rights. They can also explore the role of social media and AI in fomenting collective action or masking realities. These moments also offer educators a chance to explore (and appreciate) the many freedoms that we sometimes take for granted in the United States.
Understanding Iran requires holding multiple truths at once: a brutal regime that has oppressed its own people in the name of Islam; a population that has repeatedly sought freedom; and a history shaped both by internal repression and external intervention.
For Iranian Americans like me, the emotions surrounding these events are complicated. We want freedom for Iran’s people, but we also want peace.
These tensions are not contradictions. They are realities.
And that may be the most important lesson educators can offer students right now. The world’s difficult conflicts rarely fit into neat narratives of good and evil. The struggles require patience, context, and the willingness to see events from multiple perspectives.
Iran, perhaps more than most places, demands that kind of understanding. Teaching students to approach the current conflict through a kaleidoscope of perspectives will not only help them understand one country … it will help them understand the complexity of the world they are inheriting.
