The Iran of Palermo between anguish and hope, the community speaks

This afternoon, in front of the Teatro Massimo, there will be a demonstration "Stop Bombing Iran" organized by the Citizens' Assembly for Palestine, a group composed of civil society organizations. We have gathered some voices from the Iranian community: students, citizens who arrived after the 1979 revolution, second generations.

Afshin Firouzi, architect and educator, who arrived in the city in 1979, says: "Khomeini spoke of democracy and freedom, but after the February revolution, everything changed. In April, I was in Rome, I wanted to go to Turin or Pisa to continue my studies. They assigned me to Palermo. It wasn't what I had chosen, but I didn't mind this fate." On the bombings, he is clear: "They arrived at the wrong time. Iran was negotiating with the United States on uranium elimination. What I fear now is fragmentation: there are Kurds, Turks, Arabs, Baluchis; dividing Iran is a design of imperialism." He will participate to protest against the Italian government that does not oppose the war: "Spain has shown that it can be done. Acting this way means being complicit. I have been an Italian citizen for fifty years, I have to say it."

Among the more recently arrived Iranians, the perspective is the opposite. Ali, 34, studies Artificial Intelligence at university, prefers not to disclose his last name. "I was waiting for the attack because it was the last hope to defeat the regime. Khamenei's death gives hope, but it's not enough. The regime is brutal." According to him, many Westerners struggle to understand the festive reaction of many Iranians: "This shows - he says - how oppressed the people have been. They have killed thousands of people and can do it again. I hope the international community helps us take control of our destiny."

Like him, Sepehr, 33, a PhD student. The news of the bombings reached him at dawn from a friend. "My first thought was a Persian proverb: there is always one hand above another hand. It means that when you oppress someone, sooner or later someone stronger than you will come along." He does not hide his concern: "We are at a crossroads. The regime falls or survives. If it survives, it will be even worse because it could take revenge." His family is still in Tehran. "They are under the bombs. Yet they think that from these ruins a better future can arise."

Conflicting feelings in the account of Yasaman Kokalah, 36, an architect who has been in Palermo since 2012. "When I heard the news, on one hand, I felt concern for my family and friends. After a few hours, internet access was also cut off, and I couldn't get any news. On the other hand, there was also a feeling of relief." She explains: "I grew up in Iran, I experienced episodes of repression. On some occasions, I was arrested for not wearing the hijab. I hoped that the country could change from within, but the situation has only gotten worse. Some look to Reza Pahlavi as a reference figure, but I think the future should be decided by Iranians."

With a different position is Masiar Firouzi, born in 1990 in Palermo, an actor and restaurateur: "I want a secular state in Iran, but not liberation with stars and stripes. With Iraq and Afghanistan, we know how it ends: controlling Iran means controlling oil." On the paradox of the West: "The embargo has inflated inflation that has fueled the uprisings. Some Iranians who until yesterday said "Free Gaza" now applaud Netanyahu, while in the West Bank, annexations continue."