Three thousand four hundred twenty-eight bodies, and Trump says “the killings have ended”

“Help is on the way”: What kind of help?

On Tuesday, January 14, Trump posted on Truth Social: “Iranian patriots, keep protesting—take control of your institutions. Keep track of the names of the killers and executioners. They will pay a heavy price. I have canceled all meetings with Iranian officials until the senseless killings of protesters stop. Help is on the way. ” Powerful words. Promises that resonate. Iranian protesters read this message. Some believed it. Some took to the streets thinking the United States would act. That Trump would keep his word. When asked by a reporter about the nature of this “aid,” Trump replied: “You’ll have to find out for yourselves, sorry.” Evasive. Ambiguous. Empty.

Since the start of this crisis, Trump has made a series of contradictory statements. On Sunday, he claimed that Iran was “crossing the line” and that he and his national security team were considering “very strong options.” On Monday, he announced 25% tariffs on countries trading with Iran—a measure that has never been detailed. On Tuesday, he promised that “help was on the way.” On Wednesday, he declared that “the killings have ended.” On Thursday, he’ll probably say something else. This flurry of unfollowed-through announcements creates dangerous confusion. Iranian protesters no longer know what to expect. Neither do America’s allies. And the Iranian regime, for its part, continues to kill with impunity.

My heart goes out to those Iranians who believed Trump. Who read “help is on the way” and took to the streets thinking that this time, it would be different. That this time, the West wouldn’t abandon them. How many died believing in that promise? How many 20-year-olds braved the bullets because they thought Trump would take action? And now, Trump says the killings have ended, that he’s watching, that he’ll see. Empty promises kill just as much as bullets. Because they give people hope. And that hope drives people to take risks. And those risks kill them. Trump bears some responsibility for these deaths. Not directly. But his words have consequences.

The Low-Key Evacuation of Al-Udeid Air Base

While Trump continues to make ambiguous statements, the United States has begun evacuating hundreds of soldiers from Al-Udeid Air Base in Qatar, the largest U.S. military installation in the Middle East. The troops are being relocated to other facilities and hotels in the region, officially to keep them safe in the event of Iranian retaliation. The Qatari government confirmed the withdrawal of some personnel “in response to current regional tensions.” This move sends a contradictory message: on the one hand, Trump is threatening Iran with military intervention; on the other, he is withdrawing his troops from the main base that would be used to carry out that very intervention.

Iran reacted immediately. Ali Shamkhani, an adviser to Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei, pointed out on X that Iran had already struck that base last June in an unprecedented attack. “Donald Trump should remember the attack on the Al-Udeid base, which demonstrated Iran’s willingness and ability to retaliate against any attack,” he wrote. The message is clear: if the United States strikes, Iran will strike back. And it will strike hard. This threat is not empty. Iran has already demonstrated its ability to strike U.S. facilities in the region. The risk of escalation is real. But Trump, for his part, continues to play with fire by maintaining ambiguity about his true intentions.

What are we to make of this evacuation? Is Trump actually preparing to strike and protecting his troops? Or is he quietly backing down while continuing to bluster publicly? Personally, I lean toward the second option. Trump loves strong statements, spectacular threats, and grandiose promises. But when it comes time to act, he hesitates. He stalls. He “watches.” And while he watches, Iranians are dying. Families are mourning. Bodies are piling up. The evacuation from Al-Udeid looks like a retreat in disguise—a withdrawal that no one wants to admit to publicly. It’s cowardly. It’s hypocritical. And it’s tragic for those who believed in America’s promises.

Swift Trials and Executions Announced

Iran’s head of the judiciary, Gholamhossein Mohseni Ejei, has promised “swift” and “public” trials for suspects arrested during the protests. During a visit to a Tehran prison where protesters are being held, he stated: “If someone set a person on fire, beheaded them, and then burned their body, we must do our job quickly.” ” These are chilling words. Extreme accusations—likely fabricated or exaggerated—to justify the death penalty. Iranian authorities describe the protests as “riots” orchestrated by the United States and Israel. They refer to the protesters as “urban terrorists” and “criminals.” They promise exemplary punishments.

Erfan Soltani, 26, was scheduled to be the first to be executed on Wednesday, January 14. His name had become a symbol. Human rights NGOs had stepped up their appeals to save his life. Trump himself had warned that he would act “very strongly” if executions took place. In the end, the execution was postponed. Trump stated that he had been informed by “a reliable source” that there were “no plans for an execution.” But the Norway-based organization Hengaw warned that there were still “serious and persistent concerns” regarding Erfan Soltani’s life. The reprieve may only be temporary. Once the spotlight fades, once Trump has moved on to other matters, the execution could take place in silence.

Erfan Soltani. Twenty-six years old. He had his whole life ahead of him. He took to the streets to demonstrate for freedom, for a better Iran. And now, he waits in a cell, knowing he could be hanged at any moment. His crime? Daring to dream of a different country. Daring to shout in the streets. Daring to exist. And Trump says he’s been informed that there won’t be an execution, as if that information were enough to reassure him—to reassure us. But Erfan Soltani is still sleeping in a cell. His future still hangs by a thread. And thousands of others like him are being arrested, tortured, and threatened. How many will die in silence once the world has looked the other way?

Mass Arrests and Forced Confessions

According to the NGO HRANA, more than 18,434 people have been arrested since the protests began. Other sources cite more than 10,000 arrests. These figures vary, but all point to a crackdown of terrifying proportions. Iranian security forces are combing neighborhoods, searching homes, and arresting anyone suspected of participating in the protests. Prisons are overflowing. Detention conditions are appalling. HRANA also reports 97 cases of forced confessions. Protesters have been tortured until they confess to crimes they did not commit. Videos broadcast on state television show “repentant terrorists” admitting they were manipulated by foreign powers.

The organization has also documented 1,134 seriously injured people, including several hundred with eye injuries. Security forces are deliberately targeting protesters’ eyes with rubber bullets and buckshot. “They want them to go blind,” says an Iranian doctor quoted by the French press. Blinding protesters to prevent them from returning to the streets. To scar them for life. To terrorize those who might consider joining them. It is a tactic of systematic terror. Calculated violence. Institutionalized cruelty. And meanwhile, Iranian hospitals are overwhelmed. Blood supplies are dwindling. The New York-based Center for Human Rights in Iran is warning of a catastrophic health crisis.

Eighteen thousand four hundred thirty-four arrests. Ninety-seven forced confessions. One thousand one hundred thirty-four seriously injured. These numbers make my head spin. Because behind every number, there is a human being. A 20-year-old student arrested at home at 3 a.m. A 35-year-old woman tortured until she confessed to anything. A 17-year-old teenager who will never see out of his right eye again. Lives shattered. Destinies destroyed. And all for what? For daring to demand freedom. For daring to say no. For daring to exist as anything other than submissive subjects. Iran has become an open-air prison. And the world stands by and watches. And Trump says the killings have ended.

Summoning of Ambassadors and Symbolic Sanctions

Faced with the scale of the massacre, several European countries summoned the Iranian ambassador to express their “condemnation.” France summoned the Iranian representative in Paris to denounce the “state violence that was indiscriminately unleashed on peaceful protesters.” Spain did the same, expressing its “firm rejection and condemnation” of the crackdown. The Netherlands, Finland, Portugal, Belgium, and Germany followed suit. European Commission President Ursula von der Leyen promised that new sanctions against Tehran would be proposed “quickly.” Words. Promises. Diplomatic gestures that change nothing on the ground.

Spain went a step further by calling on its citizens to leave Iran immediately. The United Kingdom announced that it had “temporarily closed” its embassy in Tehran. The United States had already done the same on Tuesday, advising its citizens to travel to Turkey or Armenia by land. These evacuations reflect fears of an escalation. But they also reveal the international community’s powerlessness. Summoning an ambassador is all well and good. Promising sanctions is better still. But it doesn’t save any lives. It doesn’t stop any bullets. It doesn’t bring any protesters back to life. Iranians are dying while diplomats meet in committees to draft press releases.

Do you want to know what these summonses of ambassadors actually accomplish? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. The Iranian ambassador walks into the minister’s office, politely listens to the rebukes, walks out, reports back to Tehran, and life goes on. The crackdown continues. The arrests continue. The death toll keeps rising. Meanwhile, European foreign ministries congratulate themselves on having “expressed their firm condemnation.” Bravo. Wonderful. While you were drafting your press release, how many Iranians died? While you were delivering your indignant speech, how many families discovered their child’s body in a morgue? Indignation without action is complicity in disguise.

The UN: Horrified but Paralyzed

The United Nations High Commissioner for Human Rights, Volker Turk, said he was “horrified” by the escalating violence. He urged the Iranian authorities to “immediately end all forms of violence and repression against peaceful protesters and restore full access to the internet.” He called for “investigations in accordance with international standards” and “prosecution of those responsible.” These are legitimate demands. Necessary appeals. But they have no chance of being heard. Iran scoffs at the UN. Tehran knows that the Security Council is paralyzed by the vetoes of Russia and China. That the resolutions will remain a dead letter. That the threats will be empty.

Pope Francis also expressed his concerns from the Vatican: “My thoughts turn to what is happening these days in the Middle East, particularly in Iran and Syria, where persistent tensions are causing the deaths of many people. I hope and pray for the patient building of dialogue and peace.” Prayers. Hope. Thoughts. But no concrete action. The whole world is watching Iran burn. The whole world condemns, deplores, and is horrified. But no one is taking action. No one is doing anything that could truly change the situation. The Iranians are alone. Desperately alone. Facing a regime that has nothing left to lose. Facing an international community that is afraid to intervene.

The UN is horrified. The Pope is praying. European ministers are outraged. Trump is watching. And meanwhile, Iranians are dying. Alone. Abandoned. Betrayed by a world that talks a lot but never acts. I think of those protesters in the streets of Tehran who hear all these statements and wonder: “Is that it? Is that really all you’re going to do?” ” The horror isn’t just the violence of the Iranian regime. It’s also the calculated indifference of those who could act but choose to do nothing. How many more deaths will it take before real action is taken? Ten thousand? Twenty thousand? Fifty thousand? At what point does the horror become horrible enough that we stop settling for mere words?

An Unprecedented Uprising

What has been unfolding in Iran since late December 2025 is unprecedented in the country’s recent history. The protests began at the Tehran bazaar, sparked by anger over the high cost of living, rampant inflation, and shortages. But very quickly, the movement took a political turn. The slogans changed. “Neither Gaza nor Lebanon—let my life be sacrificed for Iran,” chant the protesters, rejecting the regime’s foreign policy, which spends billions to support Hezbollah and Hamas while Iranians struggle to put food on the table. “Let’s not be afraid—we’re all in this together!” they shout, defying the crackdown. “This year will be a year of blood—Khamenei will be overthrown!” they scream, calling directly for the fall of the Supreme Leader.

The protests have spread to all 31 Iranian provinces. More than 500 cities have seen rallies. Universities have joined the movement. So have shopkeepers. Women, young people, workers, intellectuals—all strata of Iranian society have risen up. This is the largest uprising Iran has seen since the 1979 Revolution. But it is also the bloodiest crackdown. The regime, sensing the ground shifting beneath its feet, has reacted with unprecedented violence. Because it knows that this time is different. That this time, the people will not back down. That this time, their very existence is at stake.

Imagine the courage it takes to go out and protest in Iran today. You know you’re risking your life. You know the security forces are firing live ammunition. You know you could be arrested, tortured, or executed. And yet, you go out anyway. Because the hope of a free Iran is worth more than the fear of dying. Because living on your knees is no life at all. Because there comes a time when you have to choose: continue to endure, or risk everything for freedom. The Iranians have made that choice. They are paying for that choice with their blood. And the world watches them, murmuring timid condemnations. It breaks my heart.

Khamenei Facing His Twilight

Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei is 86 years old. He has ruled Iran since 1979—for 46 years. A lifetime spent upholding the mullahs’ regime, crushing dissent, and defending the Islamic Revolution. But today, his power is faltering. Protesters are no longer content to criticize the government—they are challenging the entire system. They are calling for the downfall of Khamenei himself. “Death to the dictator,” they chant. “Death to Khamenei,” they shout, defying one of the Islamic Republic’s most sacred taboos. Analysts speak of a “dramatic succession” underway, a power struggle at the highest levels of government that is unfolding alongside the popular uprising. Iran is at a historic turning point.

Rallies in support of the regime have been organized in several major cities. State television broadcast footage of crowds waving Iranian flags and holding portraits of Khamenei in Revolution Square in Tehran. The government has described these gatherings as an “Iranian uprising against American-Zionist terrorism.” President Massoud Pezeshkian has called for a “national resistance march” to denounce the violence committed by “urban terrorists.” But these counter-protests ring hollow. They smack of forced organization and mobilization through fear. Compared to the hundreds of thousands of Iranians risking their lives for freedom, the few thousand regime supporters pale in comparison.

Khamenei is 86 years old. He has built his entire life around this system. He has sacrificed everything to preserve it. And now, he sees it crumbling. I wonder what he’s feeling. Is he afraid? Does he have any regrets? Does he realize that history will judge him as a bloodthirsty tyrant? Or is he so entrenched in his own ideology that he’s incapable of seeing reality? Probably the latter. Aging dictators never change. They cling to power until the very end—until they’re torn from it. Khamenei won’t step down on his own. The Iranian people will have to overthrow him. And that overthrow will cost even more blood.

Three thousand four hundred twenty-eight lives lost

Three thousand four hundred twenty-eight. That number will keep rising. Every day. Every hour. As you read this article, someone may be dying on the streets of Tehran. While Trump says that “the killings have ended,” an Iranian mother may be searching for her son in a morgue. While the UN issues its horrified statements, a teenager may be losing his sight from a buckshot blast. The massacre continues. The crackdown is intensifying. The regime is tightening its grip. And the world watches. Powerless. Or rather, refusing to use its power. Because powerlessness is just an excuse. The United States could act. Europe could act. The UN could act. But no one wants to pay the price of intervention.

So the Iranians are paying that price in our place—with their blood, their lives, and their shattered dreams. Erfan Soltani, 26, is still waiting in his cell, not knowing if he’ll see another day. The families in Kahrizak continue to search for their missing loved ones among the rows of bodies. Protesters continue to take to the streets despite everything, because they no longer have a choice. Because backing down now would mean accepting a life of eternal submission. Because some causes are worth dying for. Freedom is one of them. And meanwhile, Trump, from his office in Washington, is “watching” and “will see what happens next.” History will judge this cowardice. History will remember those who spoke without acting, promised without delivering, and watched without intervening.

Three thousand four hundred twenty-eight. I want you to pause and reflect on that number. Don’t just brush it off as a statistic. These are three thousand four hundred twenty-eight people who will never again see the sun rise. Who will never again laugh with their friends. Who will never again hold their children in their arms. Three thousand four hundred twenty-eight lives full of promise, dreams, and hope—snuffed out. And Trump says the killings have ended. As if words could wash away the blood. As if a statement from the White House could bring the dead back to life. How many lies are we willing to accept? How many empty promises before we stop believing? How many bodies in black bags before we say, “Enough”? Somewhere in Iran, a mother is mourning her son. She doesn’t know that Trump said the killings have ended. She just knows that her child will never come back. And no presidential lie can change that.