Oil Shocks, Political Upheaval and the One Solution Governments Keep Ignoring

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Opinion

Oil Shocks, Political Upheaval and the One Solution Governments Keep Ignoring

Credit: Marcelo Del Pozo/Reuters via Gallo Images

LONDON, Mar 16 2026 (IPS) – Once again, global oil prices are spiking, driven by the Israeli-US war against Iran. With Iran retaliating by attacking infrastructure and transport hubs and blocking the Strait of Hormuz, through which one-fifth of the world’s oil passes, oil supplies from the region are being choked, pushing up prices. The cost of a barrel of Brent crude – the international benchmark for oil prices – stood at US$73 before the conflict but has surged beyond US$100 since. It could go higher still as war continues.


The impacts are already being felt when drivers fill up their petrol- and diesel-powered vehicles. But they go much wider. Bigger household energy bills will likely result, while businesses will pass on their increased costs in the form of higher prices. Russia’s 2022 full-scale invasion of Ukraine sent oil prices soaring and sparked a global cost-of-living crisis, and now, as many economies seemed to be recovering, the war in the Gulf has brought another shock. Impacts could be political as well as financial: in numerous countries, the cost-of-living crisis helped drive voters towards right-wing populist and nationalist politicians. Recent years have seen Gen Z-led protests erupt in countries around the world, fuelled in part by young people’s anger at failing economies.

In a world increasingly characterised by conflict and with powerful states tearing up the international rulebook in pursuit of material interests, more oil shocks and big economic and political impacts seem inevitable. Governments typically react with economic policies that fail to protect those with the least, and by meeting political unrest with repression. They should consider another way.

The world will remain vulnerable to oil price shocks only for as long as it stays dependent on oil. The climate crisis compels a rapid move away from fossil fuel dependency to abate the worst impacts of global heating. Increasingly, this should also be seen as a matter of economic and political security.

Some steps have been taken in the right direction. Renewables now provide over 30 per cent of global electricity. Investments in renewables more than double those in fossil fuels. But fossil fuel companies have immense power and are determined not to give it up. That was reflected in the fact that 1,600 fossil fuel lobbyists attended the latest global climate summit, COP30 in Brazil, and succeeded in preventing any new commitment to end fossil fuel extraction. Their power is shown in the lawsuit an oil company brought against Greenpeace, leading to a widely criticised trial in North Dakota, USA, with the campaigning organisation facing a punitive US$345 million damages bill. Their influence was reaffirmed by Donald Trump’s election win, after a campaign in which fossil fuel companies gave US$450 million in donations to Trump and his allies – and they were rewarded by US intervention in Venezuela.

Fossil fuel companies are determined to hold back the tide of renewables for as long as possible, because every day of delay is another day of profit, even though every fraction of a degree of temperature rise means avoidable suffering for millions of people. Delay is the new climate denial.

As the latest State of Civil Society Report points out, civil society’s working to make the difference, urging governments to hasten the transition and calling on global north states to make funding available for global south states to decarbonise and adapt to climate impacts. Civil society is exposing the environmental devastation caused by extraction and the complicity of fossil fuel companies in human rights abuses. Its strategies include advocacy, public campaigning, protests, direct action and, increasingly, litigation.

In 2025, climate litigation scored some big successes. The International Court of Justice (ICJ) issued an unprecedented advisory opinion, ruling that states have a legal duty to prevent environmental harm, which requires them to mitigate emissions and adapt to climate change. This victory originated in civil society: in 2019, student groups from eight countries formed the Pacific Islands Students Fighting Climate Change network to persuade their governments to seek an ICJ ruling.

Following extensive civil society engagement, the Inter-American Court of Human Rights issued a similar ruling. The African Court for Human and Peoples’ Rights is set to issue its advisory opinion following a petition brought by the African Climate Platform, a civil society coalition.

These rulings can seem symbolic, but they strengthen national-level efforts to hold states and corporations accountable. These have paid off recently too. In 2025, two South African groups stopped an offshore oil project after a court found its environmental assessments were deeply flawed. More litigation is coming, including in New Zealand, where civil society has filed a lawsuit after the government weakened its emissions reduction plan.

But civil society faces a backlash. Around the world, climate and environmental activists and their allies, Indigenous and land rights defenders, experience severe state and corporate repression.

Last year in Uganda, authorities arrested 11 activists for protesting against the construction of the East African Crude Oil Pipeline. In Peru, police used teargas and non-lethal weapons against people blocking a road to protest against a mine. In Cambodia, five young activists from the Mother Nature environmental group have been in jail since July 2024.

The French government has repeatedly vilified environmental campaigners and deployed police violence against protests, while last year the German government launched an inquiry into public funding of environmental groups and the Dutch parliament adopted a motion condemning Extinction Rebellion and urging the removal of its tax-exempt status.

As the latest oil price shocks reverberate around the global economy, governments should learn the lessons. As economies deteriorate, the temptation will be to say that transition is a luxury, something that can be put off even further. This is the wrong lesson: recent research in the UK suggests that the cost of achieving net zero will be about the same as the cost of another oil price crisis. Economic and political security lies in ending fossil fuel dependency as quickly as possible. To learn the right lessons, governments should stop repressing climate activism and instead listen to and work with civil society.

Andrew Firmin isCIVICUS Editor-in-Chief, co-director and writer for CIVICUS Lens and co-author of the State of Civil Society Report.

For interviews or more information, please contact research@civicus.org

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VENEZUELA: ‘An Economically Stable Authoritarian Model Could Become Entrenched’

Active Citizens, Civil Society, Crime & Justice, Democracy, Economy & Trade, Energy, Featured, Headlines, Human Rights, Latin America & the Caribbean, Migration & Refugees, TerraViva United Nations

Mar 11 2026 (IPS) –  
CIVICUS discusses the situation in Venezuela following US intervention and the ousting of President Nicolás Maduro with Verónica Zubillaga, a Venezuelan sociologist who specialises in urban violence, state repression and community responses to armed violence.


Verónica Zubillaga

In late January, the interim government led by Delcy Rodríguez announced an amnesty for political prisoners, coinciding with a rapprochement with the USA driven by oil interests. It is unclear whether this represents the beginning of a genuine opening or is an attempt by the government to gain international legitimacy without relinquishing power. In a country with millions of migrants and exiles, a historically fragmented opposition and a civil society that has faced brutal repression for years, it remains to be seen whether recent changes will create space for democracy or lead to the consolidation of economically stable authoritarianism.

Is the recently announced amnesty a real opening or a strategic manoeuvre?

We are at an unprecedented crossroads. Venezuela and its Chavista regime, under US tutelage and despite two decades of anti-imperialist rhetoric, are reconfiguring themselves in such a way that some opening could result. However, there is still a risk that an authoritarian model will be consolidated, with economic and humanitarian concessions, but without real democratisation.

The release of political prisoners — a constant demand in all negotiations with international support, and a low-cost form of early opening for the interim government that has taken over from Maduro — could function as a stepping stone towards democratisation. The restoration of civil, political and social rights will be a difficult and lengthy struggle in this context of such deprivation, in which our rights have been violated for so long.

In the first half of February, there were partial and gradual releases, but hundreds of people remained in detention. The enactment of the Amnesty Law on 19 February has accelerated the releases.

The announcement was presented as a political concession, not as a recognition of the extensive human rights violations committed by Maduro’s government. There has been no mention yet of initiating processes to seek the truth, hold those responsible accountable, provide reparations or dismantle the repressive apparatus, which are urgent.

We therefore need to react with caution. The release of people deprived of their liberty for political reasons is essential, but it cannot replace a broader agenda of justice, reparation and institutional transformation.

How has civil society worked to keep this issue at the centre of the debate?

The cause of political prisoners is cross-cutting. There are detained people of different ages, social classes and political backgrounds. In a society as polarised as ours, this is one of the few causes around which there is broad consensus.

After the results of the presidential election of 28 July 2024, which the opposition clearly won, were disregarded, it was mainly people from the working classes who took to the streets to protest. Many young people, including teenagers, were arrested and imprisoned. This situation significantly deepened the social dimension of the problem, highlighted the break between the ruling party and its traditional base and consolidated the brutally authoritarian nature and illegitimacy of Maduro’s government.

There is also an important gender dimension. While many young men are in prison, it is women – mothers, sisters and other relatives – who have organised committees, vigils and public actions demanding their release. Symbolically, the figure of the grieving mother demanding the release of her children is particularly powerful. It is a symbol that appeals to the Latin American imagination about women and their cries for democratisation, justice and reparation in the context of crumbling authoritarian regimes.

Recently, the demand for the release of political prisoners has also been raised by the student movement in its call for a rally at the Central University of Venezuela. After a year and a half of brutal repression following the 2024 election, which emptied the streets and created a climate of widespread fear, any public demonstration is a significant sign that could trigger a chain of progressive demands and the vindication of civil, political and social rights.

What has been the impact of the USA’s renewed interest in Venezuelan oil?

It is clear that the Trump administration is fixated on oil and investment opportunities and completely disregards democracy and human rights. The part of the opposition represented by María Corina Machado has been stunned by its exclusion from key decision-making despite its efforts to gain Donald Trump’s attention. This exclusion has altered the internal political balance.

Historically, there has been tension within the Venezuelan opposition between those who favour resorting to external pressure and those who prioritise internal negotiation strategies. Since 2014, two main strategies have coexisted: one that is more confrontational, demanding the immediate end of the government, and another favouring negotiation or elections. Civil society mirrors these same divisions. One of the difficulties of the Venezuelan process is this constant fragmentation and internal disagreements within the opposition. As the government has become more authoritarian, these divisions have prevented more powerful coordinated political action. It is important for the opposition to coordinate strategies and, instead of wearing itself down in these disagreements, coordinate efforts to move strategically between confrontation and negotiation.

Whenever the opposition has managed to coordinate, as in the 2015 legislative and 2024 presidential elections, it made significant gains. During the 2024 campaign led by Machado, the opposition achieved an unprecedented level of coordination, generating enormous collective hope, particularly with regard to the prospect of family reunification in a country with over eight million migrants. This situation affects people of all social classes and political ideologies. But in response, the government redoubled its repression and consolidated the dictatorship. This led to frustration, demobilisation and further fragmentation. The opposition lacked a long-term strategy to sustain its gains and withstand setbacks. This is still one of the biggest challenges today.

What should the international community do to contribute to real democratisation?

The international community, and Latin American states in particular, could have taken a firmer stance after the 2024 electoral fraud. Silence and a lukewarm approach weakened the defence of democracy. Now it should not repeat that mistake. Beyond Maduro’s profound delegitimisation, the US military operation in Venezuela is a sign of what could happen to any Latin American country under the US government’s new national security strategy.

With the USA as an imperial power primarily concerned with its geostrategic interests and oil resources, demands for democratisation may take a back seat. An authoritarian model that is economically stable but without real democratisation could become entrenched.

In this context, the USA’s prioritisation of energy interests is worrying. It is an unprecedented scenario in which external intervention and the permanence of the ruling party in power coexist. The situation is highly volatile, and this has only just begun. A period of instability and political violence could follow if the civil-military coalition in power breaks down, which may happen given the tradition of anti-imperialist discourse rooted in the armed forces during the two and a half decades of Chavista rule.

Ironically, the USA’s focus on energy interests could result in the defence of sovereignty becoming a new unifying cause for the Venezuelan opposition, potentially leading to basic agreements between the ruling party post-Maduro and the opposition to defend Venezuelan oil interests. What’s at stake is recovering politics as an exercise involving conflict and struggle, as well as recognition and exchange for democratic coexistence — something we have lost, particularly over the past decade.

CIVICUS interviews a wide range of civil society activists, experts and leaders to gather diverse perspectives on civil society action and current issues for publication on its CIVICUS Lens platform. The views expressed in interviews are the interviewees’ and do not necessarily reflect those of CIVICUS. Publication does not imply endorsement of interviewees or the organisations they represent

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International Women’s Day 2026: A Resistance Stronger than the Backlash

Active Citizens, Armed Conflicts, Civil Society, Crime & Justice, Featured, Gender, Gender Identity, Gender Violence, Global, Headlines, Human Rights, LGBTQ, TerraViva United Nations, Women’s Health

Opinion

International Women’s Day 2026: A Resistance Stronger than the Backlash

Credit: Marco Longari/AFP

MONTEVIDEO, Uruguay, Mar 9 2026 (IPS) – Consider what International Women’s Day looked like a few years ago, and what it looks like now: the same date, the same global moment of reflection, but a vastly changed global landscape. Gender rights are facing the most coordinated and wide-ranging attack in decades. Anti-rights forces are dismantling protections secured after generations of struggle, destroying infrastructure built to address gender-based violence and realise reproductive rights and rewriting legal frameworks to roll back rights, with a specific focus on excluding transgender people. This is the result of a deliberate, carefully crafted, handsomely funded and globally coordinated strategy.


Fortunately, resistance is proving harder to extinguish than those driving the backlash had expected. Another International Women’s Day of mobilisation is here to prove it.

A regressive template

While attacks have been building for years, the global landscape shifted quickly in January 2025, when a newly inaugurated Donald Trump signed executive orders imposing a rigid binary classification of sex across federal law, stripping non-discrimination protections for LGBTQI+ people in healthcare and housing, and banning diversity, equity and inclusion policies across the federal government. Because the USA had been the world’s largest bilateral donor, the simultaneous dismantling of USAID and expansion of the global gag rule — blocking US funding to organisations that provide abortions or advocate for abortion rights — had immediate effects on women and girls all over the world, with particularly deadly consequences in conflict zones, rural areas and the world’s poorest countries.

Elsewhere, regressive forces were already mobilising – and Trump’s example only emboldened them. Hungary banned Pride marches and authorised surveillance to enforce compliance. Slovakia and the UK redefined sex as exclusively biological, stripping legal recognition from non-binary and transgender people. Burkina Faso criminalised same-sex relations and their ‘promotion’. Trinidad and Tobago’s Court of Appeal reinstated colonial-era penalties for homosexuality of up to 25 years in prison. Kazakhstan introduced a Russian-style ban on positive LGBTQI+ representation in education, media and online platforms.

It’s striking how consistent the underlying logic is across different political and regional contexts: gender equality is framed as a dangerous ‘ideology’, feminism is demonised as a foreign imposition, LGBTQI+ visibility is portrayed as a threat to children. The similarities reflect a coordinated effort to manufacture cultural conflict to consolidate hierarchies, strengthen elite authority and deflect attention from economic and political failures.

The backlash has reached the international institutions that have long served feminist movements as key arenas for developing a common language, setting a shared agenda and coordinating action across borders. A milestone in anti-rights advances was observed at the United Nations Commission on the Status of Women’s 69th session last year, where a well-organised anti-rights bloc succeeded in stripping longstanding references to sexual and reproductive health and rights from the meeting’s Political Declaration.

What resistance looks like

Yet regression is not going uncontested: not in the streets, not in the courts and not even in the world’s most repressive settings.

In Hungary, tens of thousands defied the Pride ban in Budapest, risking prosecution to assert their right to be visible in public space. In South Africa, sustained civil society pressure, including over a million signatures demanding action, compelled the government to declare gender-based violence and femicide a national disaster. In St Lucia, the Eastern Caribbean Supreme Court struck down colonial-era laws criminalising same-sex relations. Courts in Malawi and Nigeria recognised the right to safe abortion for sexual violence survivors. The UK finally repealed a Victorian-era law that had continued to criminalise abortion in England and Wales. Denmark and Norway improved access to abortion services. Marriage equality came into force in both Liechtenstein and Thailand. At least three European Union member states — the Czech Republic, France and Poland — adopted consent-based definitions of rape.

Even in the most difficult of circumstances, under Afghanistan’s system of gender apartheid, women are maintaining underground schools, keeping solidarity networks alive and documenting abuses, setting their sights on future justice processes.

While the list of advances is impressive, some of the most important contemporary victories are invisible: stalled bills, softened provisions, laws not passed because civil society refused to stand aside. An attempt to repeal The Gambia’s ban on female genital mutilation was blocked. Kenya’s anti-LGBTQI+ Family Protection Bill remains stalled. In Latvia, when conservative forces moved in October 2025 to withdraw from the Istanbul Convention on violence against women, large-scale protests and a civil society petition won what could be a crucial delay. These defensive successes rarely make headlines, but they result from sustained, unglamorous advocacy and coalition work. Without them, the most extreme proposals would advance much further and faster.

Rising to the challenge

Recognition of rights is never permanent. It’s won through sustained struggle and can be reversed through organised opposition from those who perceive other people’s rights as a threat to their privilege. Backlash isn’t a historical anomaly but a predictable counter-mobilisation, and civil society has met it as such, by organising, mobilising, litigating and refusing to concede ground.

This is precisely what CIVICUS’s 2026 State of Civil Society Report, set for release on 12 March, sets out to document. The report examines the state of the world and civil society action throughout 2025 and early 2026 – including a dedicated chapter on women’s and LGBTQI+ people’s rights – and reveals strong patterns of resistance. Across regions and political contexts, it shows how civil society understands the scale of the attack and is responding in every possible way.

As this International Women’s Day will once again make clear, the backlash is organised and strong. But so is the resistance.

Inés M. Pousadela is CIVICUS Head of Research and Analysis, co-director and writer for CIVICUS Lens and co-author of the State of Civil Society Report. She is also a Professor of Comparative Politics at Universidad ORT Uruguay.

For interviews or more information, please contact research@civicus.org

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Imagery, Algorithms, and the Ballot: What Takaichi’s Victory Says About Youth Politics in the Digital Age

Active Citizens, Asia-Pacific, Democracy, Development & Aid, Economy & Trade, Headlines, Labour, Peace, TerraViva United Nations, Youth, Youth Thought Leaders

Opinion

Imagery, Algorithms, and the Ballot: What Takaichi’s Victory Says About Youth Politics in the Digital Age

Image: Hiroshi-Mori-Stock / shutterstock.com and 内閣広報室 / Cabinet Public Affairs Office / Wiki Commons

Mar 3 2026 (IPS) –  
Sanae Takaichi’s electoral victory in February marks a historic turning point in Japanese politics. As Japan’s first female prime minister and the leader of a commanding parliamentary majority, she represents change in both symbolic and strategic terms. Conventional wisdom long held that younger Japanese voters leaned progressive, were sceptical of assertive security policies, and disengaged from ideological nationalism. Yet a segment of digitally active youth rallied behind a politician associated with constitutional revision, expanded defence capabilities, and a more unapologetic articulation of national identity. This shift cannot be reduced to a simple conservative swing. Rather, Takaichi’s rise reflects a deeper transformation in how democratic politics is constructed in the digital age: the growing power of imagery, digital mobilisation, and algorithm-driven branding in shaping political choice—particularly among younger voters.


Takaichi’s approval ratings among voters aged 18–29 approached 90 per cent in some surveys, far surpassing those of her predecessors. Youth turnout also rose, suggesting that Japanese youth are not politically apathetic. On the contrary, they are paying attention—but the nature of that engagement has changed. Viral images, short video clips, hashtags, and aesthetic cues travelled faster and farther than policy briefings. For many younger voters, engagement began—and sometimes ended—with the visual and emotional appeal of the candidate. This pattern is not uniquely Japanese. However, the scale of its impact in this election suggests that political communication has entered a new phase in which digital imagery can shape electoral outcomes as much as—or more than—substantive debate.

A New Phase of Digital Politics in Japan

In the months leading up to the election, Takaichi’s image proliferated across social media platforms. Supporters circulated clips highlighting her confident demeanour and historic candidacy. A cultural trend sometimes described as ‘sanakatsu’ or ‘sanae-mania’ framed political support as a form of fandom participation. Hashtags multiplied. ‘Mic-drop’ moments went viral. Even personal accessories—her handbags and ballpoint pens—became symbolic conversation pieces.

Political enthusiasm has always contained emotional and symbolic elements. What is new is the speed and scale at which digital platforms amplify them. Algorithms reward content that provokes reaction—admiration, anger, excitement. A charismatic clip often outperforms a detailed explanation of fiscal reform. For younger voters raised in scroll-based media environments, political information increasingly arrives as curated snippets. Policy complexity competes with—and often loses to—aesthetic immediacy.

Post-election surveys and interviews suggested that many first-time voters struggled to articulate specific policy distinctions between parties. Instead, they cited impressions—strength, change, decisiveness, novelty—suggesting that digital engagement does not automatically translate into policy literacy. Political identity can form through repeated exposure to imagery and narrative rather than sustained examination of legislative proposals. When campaigns are optimized for shareability, they are incentivized to simplify. Nuance compresses poorly into short-form video.

The Politics of Strength in an Age of Uncertainty

Japan’s younger generation has grown up amid prolonged economic stagnation, regional insecurity, and global volatility. China’s rise, tensions over Taiwan, North Korean missile launches, and persistent wage stagnation form the backdrop of their political participation. For many, the future feels uncertain and structurally constrained.

In such an environment, Takaichi’s assertive rhetoric carried emotional resonance. Her emphasis on strengthening national defence, revisiting aspects of the postwar settlement, and making Japan “strong and rich” projected clarity rather than ambiguity. Where institutional politics can appear technocratic or slow, decisive messaging offered the voters psychological reassurance.

At the core of her appeal is a narrative of restoring a ‘strong’ Japan. Calls for constitutional revision and expanded defence capabilities are framed as steps toward recovering national self-confidence. For younger Japanese fatigued by protracted historical disputes and what some perceive as externally imposed guilt, language emphasising pride and sovereignty resonates more readily than complex historical debates. This may not signal a rejection of peace. Rather, it may reflect a generational reframing of peace itself—understood not solely as pacifism, but as deterrence, defence capability, and strategic autonomy. Messages stressing ‘sovereignty’, ‘strength’, and ‘normal country’ can circulate more effectively in shareable digital formats than nuanced and complex historical analysis.

A Global Pattern: Virtual Branding, a Democratic Crossroads

Japan’s experience mirrors a broader transformation in democratic politics: the rise of virtual branding as the central organizing principle of electoral strategy. In earlier eras, campaigns revolved around party platforms and televised debates. Today, strategy increasingly begins with platform optimization. Campaigns are designed not only to persuade, but to perform within algorithmic systems. The guiding question is no longer only “What policies do we stand for?” but “What content travels?”

The election of Donald Trump in the United States illustrated how virtual media strategy can reshape political competition. Memorable slogans and emotionally charged posts dominated attention cycles, often eclipsing policy detail. Scholars have described this as “attention economics in action”: the candidate who captures digital attention shapes political reality before formal debate even begins. More recently, figures such as Zohran Mamdani have demonstrated how youth-centered digital branding can mobilize support with remarkable speed. Campaigns became participatory; supporters did not merely consume messaging but actively distributed political identity.

Takaichi’s recent victory reflects the evolving mechanics of digital democracy. Her leadership will ultimately be judged not by imagery but by governance — by whether her policies deliver economic stability, regional security, and social cohesion. The broader question, however, transcends any single administration. It means political decisions have migrated into digital environments optimised for speed and visual communication. In an age where images travel faster than ideas, democratic choice risks being guided more by what is seen than by what is discussed. In such an environment, political campaigns will be forced to adapt, and produce content that performs well within these algorithmic constraints. Over time, this may reshape voter expectations and politics will begin to resemble influencer culture. Campaigns that fail to master digital branding risk will appear outdated. Those that succeed can mobilize youth at scale.

Democracy has always balanced emotion and reason. The challenge today is ensuring that emotion does not eclipse reason entirely. The future of informed citizenship may depend on restoring that balance. This does not suggest that previous eras were immune to personality politics. What has changed is the proportion. The digital environment magnifies symbolic cues and compresses policy discussion. If democracies wish to maintain robust deliberation, they must consciously rebalance image and substance. This requires civic education focused on media literacy, virtual platform incentives that elevate substantive debate and political leadership willing to engage in depth, not just virality. And the responsibility is collective—voters, educators, media institutions, and candidates alike. The question facing democracies is whether this transformation can coexist with substantive deliberation or whether branding will increasingly overtake it.

Related articles:
Japan Stumbles: The Taiwan Fiasco
The New Takaichi Administration: Confronting Harsh Realities on the International Stage
Middle Powers After Davos

Ria Shibata is currently a Senior Research Fellow at the New Zealand Centre for Global Studies, and the Toda Peace Institute in Japan. She also serves as a Visiting Scholar at the University of Auckland. Her research focuses on identity-driven conflicts, reconciliation, nationalism and the role of historical memory in shaping interstate relations and regional stability in Northeast Asia.

This article was issued by the Toda Peace Institute and is being republished from the original with their permission.

IPS UN Bureau

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Iran: A Regime with Nothing Left but Force

Active Citizens, Civil Society, Crime & Justice, Economy & Trade, Featured, Headlines, Health, Human Rights, Labour, Middle East & North Africa, Migration & Refugees, Press Freedom, TerraViva United Nations

Opinion

Iran: A Regime with Nothing Left but Force

Credit: Georgios Kostomitsopoulos/NurPhoto via Getty Images

MONTEVIDEO, Uruguay, Feb 24 2026 (IPS) – The Islamic Republic of Iran has put down another uprising, with a ferocity that makes previous crackdowns seem restrained. The theocratic regime has survived, but it has done so by substituting violence for the economic security it cannot provide and the political legitimacy it no longer has. Its show of force is also an admission of weakness.


The protests that began on 28 December were triggered by a specific event — the collapse of the rial to a record low — but rooted in years of accumulated grievances. The second half of 2025 alone saw at least 471 labour protests across 69 Iranian cities. Inflation stood at 49.4 per cent. The 12-day war with Israel in June sent the Tehran Stock Exchange down around 40 per cent and cost many people their jobs. The United Nations Security Council reimposed sanctions in September. The government cut fuel subsidies in November and slashed exchange-rate subsidies in December. Over 40 per cent of Iranian households now live below the poverty line and around half the population consume fewer than the recommended 2,100 calories per day.

It was this collapse that brought typically conservative bazaar merchants onto the streets. Within two weeks, the protests had spread to all of Iran’s 31 provinces, drawing in the urban middle class, working-class communities and people from rural provinces who had historically been among the regime’s most reliable supporters. What began as an economic stoppage rapidly became political defiance. For the millions who joined the striking merchants, the plummeting currency and rising cost of food were not market failures; they were proof of the regime’s corruption and ineptitude. Generation Z played a central role, demanding not reform but profound change. Lethal repression provided further confirmation the system was beyond reform.

The state’s response evolved. Initially it offered token economic concessions alongside its usual crowd control violence such as batons and teargas. When it became clear that a widespread movement with political demands had taken hold, it shifted to total attrition. On 8 January, authorities imposed a near-total internet shutdown and authorised security forces to use military-grade weapons against crowds. The Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC) – a parallel military structure, major political force and economic empire with a direct stake in the regime’s survival – spearheaded the crackdown, with its affiliated Basij paramilitary networks playing a central role in street-level violence.

The casualty figures were deliberately obscured by the internet blackout, but all evidence points in the same direction. Hengaw Organisation for Human Rights reported that at least 3,000 civilians — including 44 children — were killed in the first 17 days. Iran Human Rights, citing Ministry of Health sources, documented a minimum of 3,379 deaths across 15 provinces. The US-based Human Rights Activists News Agency reported around 7,000 verified fatalities by mid-February, with 12,000 further cases under review. Time magazine cited hospital records suggesting the toll may have reached 30,000. Even the lowest of these figures vastly eclipses the 537 deaths recorded during the 2022-2023 Woman, Life, Freedom protests. Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei’s concession that ‘several thousand’ had been killed confirmed the order of magnitude.

By 16 January the streets had been cleared, but a quieter repressive campaign continued, with nighttime raids, enforced disappearances and mass detentions in unofficial holding sites outside the legal system, targeting not only protesters but also doctors who treated the wounded, lawyers who provided legal assistance, bystanders who helped and people who posted supportive statements online. Authorities have detained over 50,000 people. Revolutionary Courts have fast-tracked mass indictments through summary trials, often conducted online and lasting mere minutes, with defendants denied independent legal counsel and confessions extracted under torture. Eighteen-year-old Saleh Mohammadi, whose retracted confession was obtained after interrogators broke bones in his hand, has been sentenced to be publicly hanged at the site of his alleged crime. Dozens more face imminent execution.

The regime has, for now, held: its security forces have not fractured, there have been no significant elite defections, and the IRGC has maintained its capacity for suppression. But it rules over a country with a wrecked economy, a battered nuclear programme, weakened regional proxies and a population that has run out of reasons to comply. Each protest cycle has required a higher threshold of state violence to suppress, a sign the regime has no other tool left.

What prevents weakness from becoming collapse is the absence of any alternative. The international response briefly suggested external pressure might tell – but did not. Donald Trump told Iranian protesters that ‘help is on its way’. The European Union listed the IRGC as a terrorist organisation. The UK imposed fresh sanctions. The Iranian diaspora held at least 168 protests across 30 countries. But the international noise simply enabled the regime to spread the narrative that the uprising was foreign-directed.

The exiled opposition is fragmented along ethnic, ideological and generational lines, seemingly more consumed by internal rivalries than the task of converting widespread discontent into sustained political pressure. Inside Iran, the most credible opposition voices — Nobel laureate Narges Mohammadi, reformist politician Mostafa Tajzadeh and veteran leader Mir Hossein Mousavi — are imprisoned or cut off from public life.

A weakened regime facing a leaderless opposition can endure, but what it cannot do is reverse its decay. Violence may clear the streets, but it cannot rebuild the economy, restore trust or give Iran’s young people a reason to stay. The regime has bought time, at an ever-rising price, but the crisis it’s suppressed isn’t going away.

Inés M. Pousadela is CIVICUS Head of Research and Analysis, co-director and writer for CIVICUS Lens and co-author of the State of Civil Society Report. She is also a Professor of Comparative Politics at Universidad ORT Uruguay.

For interviews or more information, please contact research@civicus.org

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IRAN: ‘Sustainable Change Will Depend on Domestic Organisational Capacity, Not External Force’

Active Citizens, Civil Society, Crime & Justice, Economy & Trade, Featured, Headlines, Human Rights, Middle East & North Africa, Migration & Refugees, Press Freedom, TerraViva United Nations

Feb 16 2026 (IPS) –  
CIVICUS discusses the recent protests in Iran with Sohrab Razaghi, executive director of Volunteer Activists, a Netherlands-based diaspora organisation empowering Iranian civil society.


IRAN: ‘Sustainable Change Will Depend on Domestic Organisational Capacity, Not External Force’

Sohrab Razaghi

Protests triggered by economic grievances erupted across Iran on 28 December, quickly evolving into broader anti-regime protests. The crackdown that followed resulted in what may be the largest massacre in modern Iranian history.

What sparked the protests, and in what ways were they different from previous ones?

Rising prices and the collapse of the national currency initially sparked the protests, but these quickly expanded beyond economic grievances. At least in part, this is because the economy is no longer seen as a purely technical issue but as a measure of the state’s ability to govern. A central question among social groups now is whether the government can manage crises and provide sustainable solutions.

Anger has built up, reflecting broken promises and lost futures. Over the past three decades, four major protest waves – in 2009, 2017, 2019 and 2022 – were met with repression, denial or superficial reforms. This pattern has produced a strong sense of humiliation and political voicelessness.

But perhaps the most decisive factor in the latest wave of protests has been the role of Generation Z, a generation that did not experience the 1979 revolution or the war with Iraq and does not have the ideological attachments of earlier generations. The dividing line is not just age but also expectations, lifestyles and values. While previous generations used to hope for gradual reform within the system, now many young people see no viable future within the current framework. For them, the most rational responses to what they perceive as a structural dead end are disengagement, migration or radical protest.

Recent protests, particularly those of 8 and 9 January, also reflected shifts in protest dynamics, with higher levels of violence visible in both rhetoric and practice. This escalation likely reflects accumulated frustration and political deadlock, but doesn’t necessarily indicate that the state has weakened. Security forces so far appear cohesive and operationally effective, and there are no clear signs of fragmentation inside the coercive apparatus.

But the rise in violence is troubling for democratic forces and civil society. When violent tactics become prominent, organised civic initiatives are marginalised and security-driven narratives prevail, weakening sustained civic action.

Additionally, Israeli and US statements expressing support for protesters and threatening military action had contradictory and largely negative effects.

While such rhetoric initially generated hope among some protesters, the lack of follow-up produced disillusionment and scepticism. Most importantly, statements by foreign governments, including Israel and the USA, strengthened the regime’s narrative. They enabled the authorities to frame protests as the products of foreign interference and protesters as instruments of external powers, including claims of involvement by Mossad agents. This narrative was very useful to justify securitisation and repression.

How have civil society and the media documented human rights violations amid internet shutdowns?

During near-total internet blackouts, local and community-based groups played crucial roles. They recorded the time and location of incidents, collected testimonies from multiple sources and preserved legal, medical and visual documentation while observing basic digital security principles.

When limited internet access became available, information was shared securely with international partners and diaspora networks. These networks helped archive data, liaise with human rights organisations and media and reduce pressure on activists operating inside Iran. International human rights organisations then cross-checked and verified reports before incorporating them into official documentation. Because communication shutdowns, security risks and restricted access to evidence prevented full documentation, they typically presented casualty figures and details of repression conservatively. At the same time, fake news and baseless casualty figures are also prevalent in diaspora and international media reports. It is essential to interrogate such reporting to preserve the credibility of fact-checked, evidence-based reports.

Under severe restrictions, independent and evidence-based documentation has been essential to preserve truth, counter denial and lay the groundwork for future accountability.

What’s limiting sustained pressure for change?

Recent protests have not expanded into broader forms of social organisation. Participation by labour unions, local networks and professional associations has been limited, restricting the potential for sustained institutionalised pressure. Without stronger organisational structures, documentation of abuses won’t necessarily translate into coordinated civic action. Social media-based coordination and mobilisation are effective for the start and first phase of protests, but on-the-ground leadership, networks and organising capacity are instrumental for sustaining protests and increasing pressure for change.

At the discursive level, significant attention has focused on appeals for foreign pressure rather than on building internal coalitions among social groups. In some cases, rhetoric has centred on state collapse rather than democratic transition, a framework that risks instability and further social fragmentation. The use of profanity and violent language – both inside Iran and among the diaspora community – has also alienated families and moderate groups, narrowing rather than broadening support.

Ultimately, for protests to evolve into movements capable of exerting sustained pressure for change, what’s needed is inclusive organisation, coalition-building and a unifying narrative.

What should the international community do to strengthen Iranian civil society?

Sustainable change will depend on domestic organisational capacity, leadership and representation, not external force. So international leaders should avoid war rhetoric and avoid engaging in any form of military intervention. Historical experience suggests that even limited foreign military intervention is unlikely to weaken domestic repression. Instead, it may well increase regime cohesion, at least in the short term, intensify nationalist sentiment and raise the costs faced by civil society activists, who can be easily portrayed as collaborators and traitors.

When supporting Iranian civil society, international allies should prioritise independent, nonviolent civil society organisations rather than opposition groups advocating violence. Narratives of ‘collapse at any cost’ marginalise civic initiatives and undermine the prospects of democratisation.

Long-term investment in capacity strengthening is essential. This includes supporting civic organising skills, digital security, democratic advocacy, nonviolent action and secure communication tools. Over recent decades, resources and repertoires for change within civil society have been weakened. Sustained engagement is required to rebuild these capacities, with up-to-date resources, techniques and tools.

Monitoring, documentation and evidence-based reporting grounded in credible local sources are among the most effective forms of support. Accurate reporting strengthens prospects for accountability and limits the space for propaganda.

Ultimately, sustainable democratic change in Iran will depend on civil society acting independently, rooted in domestic capacities and supported by context-aware, non-interventionist international engagement.

CIVICUS interviews a wide range of civil society activists, experts and leaders to gather diverse perspectives on civil society action and current issues for publication on its CIVICUS Lens platform. The views expressed in interviews are the interviewees’ and do not necessarily reflect those of CIVICUS. Publication does not imply endorsement of interviewees or the organisations they represent.

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