how each side is trying to frame the uprising in Iran

Since the outbreak of the current wave of protests in Iran, two sharply competing narratives have emerged to explain what is unfolding in the streets.

For the ruling establishment, the unrest is portrayed as a foreign-engineered plot. They argue it is an externally-driven attempt to destabilise the state through manipulation, infiltration, and psychological operations.

For the opposition, the same events are framed as a nationwide uprising rooted in long-standing grievances. They argue the protests signal a rupture between society and the political system.

How the “story” of a conflict is told is a key component in warfare. The Iran protests are offering two very different stories.

Narrative crafting as psychological warfare

In the digital age, psychological warfare has moved beyond conventional propaganda into the realm of what academics Ihsan Yilmaz and Shahram Akbarzadeh call Strategic Digital Information Operations (SDIOs).

Psychological operations function as central instruments of power, designed not only to suppress dissent but reshape how individuals perceive reality, legitimacy, and political possibility. Their objective is cognitive and emotional:

• to induce fear, uncertainty, and helplessness
• to discredit opponents
• to construct a sense of inevitability around a certain political scenario.

These techniques are employed not only by states, but increasingly by non-state actors as well.

Social media platforms have become the primary theatres of this psychological struggle. Hashtags, memes, manipulated images, and coordinated commenting – often amplified by automated accounts – are used to frame events, assign blame, and shape emotional responses at scale.

Crucially, audiences are not passive recipients of these narratives. Individuals sympathetic to a particular framing actively reproduce, reinforce, and police it within digital echo chambers. In this way, confirmation bias flourishes and alternative interpretations are dismissed or attacked.

Because of this, narrative control is not a secondary dimension of conflict but a central battleground. How an uprising is framed can shape its trajectory. It can determine whether it remains peaceful or turns violent, and whether domestic repression or foreign intervention comes to be seen as justified or inevitable.

The Iranian regime’s narrative

The Iranian regime has consistently framed the current uprising as a foreign-engineered plot, orchestrated by Israel, the United States and allied intelligence services. In this narrative, the protests are not an expression of domestic grievance but a continuation of Israel’s recent confrontation with Iran. This, it argues, is part of a broader campaign to overthrow the regime and turn the country into chaos.

Two weeks after the protests began, the state organised large pro-regime demonstrations. Shortly afterward, supreme leader Ayatollah Ali Khamenei declared these rallies had “thwarted the plan of foreign enemies that was meant to be carried out by domestic mercenaries”.

The message was clear: dissent was not only illegitimate but treasonous. Those participating in it were portrayed as instruments of external powers rather than citizens with political demands.

Demonising dissent serves a dual purpose. It is not only a method of silencing opposition, but also a tool for engineering perception and shaping emotional responses.

By portraying protesters as foreign agents, the regime seeks to manufacture compliance, discourage wavering supporters, and project an image of widespread popularity. The objective is not simply to punish critics, but to signal that public dissent will carry heavy costs.

To reinforce this narrative, pro-regime social media accounts have circulated content that blends ideological framing with selective factual material. Analyses arguing that events in Iran follow a familiar “regime change playbook” have been widely shared, as have Israeli statements suggesting intelligence operations inside Iran. Cherry-picking expert commentary or isolated data points to justify repression is a common feature of this approach.

The timing and amplification of such content are also significant. Social media networks are deployed via “algorithmic manipulation” to make the regime’s framing go viral and marginalise counter views.

As this digital campaign unfolds, it is reinforced by more traditional forms of control. Internet restrictions and shutdowns limit access to alternative sources of information. This allows state media to dominate communications and thwart challenges to the official narrative.

In this environment, the regime’s story functions not merely as propaganda, but as a strategic instrument. It aims to redefine the uprising, delegitimise dissent, and preserve authority by controlling how events are understood.

The opposition narrative

The opposition is divided, but two main groups have appeared active in framing the opposition narrative: those who support an Iranian monarchy, and dissenting armed group Mojahedin-e-Khalq (MEK). Despite their differences, the two have contributed to the same story.

They have crafted a persuasive narrative, framing the uprising as a moral emergency requiring external intervention, particularly by the United States and Israel. This narrative does not represent all opposition voices, but it has gained visibility through social media, exile media outlets, and activist networks. Its core objective is to bring international attention to the conflict and put the case for, then bring about, regime change in Iran.

One central technique has been the legitimisation and encouragement of violence. Calls for armed protest and direct confrontation with security forces mark a clear shift away from demand-based, civilian mobilisation toward a violent uprising.

A high number of state forces casualties – reportedly more than 114 by January 11 – is an example of the effectiveness of this technique. This escalation is often justified as necessary to “keep the movement alive” and generate a level of bloodshed that would compel international intervention.

According to external conflict-monitoring assessments, clashes between armed protesters and state forces have in fact resulted in significant casualties on both sides.

A second technique involves the strategic inflation of casualty figures. Opposition platforms have claimed the death toll to be far higher than figures cited by independent estimates.

Such exaggeration serves a clear psychological and political purpose. It is intended to shock and sway international opinion, frame the situation as genocidal or exceptional, and increase pressure on foreign governments to act militarily.

A third element has been the use of intimidation and rhetorical coercion. In some high-profile media appearances, opposition figures have openly threatened pro-regime commentators, warning of retribution once power changes hands.

This language serves multiple functions. It seeks to silence alternative viewpoints, project confidence and inevitability, and present the situation as one of good versus evil. At the same time, such rhetoric risks alienating undecided audiences and reinforcing regime claims the uprising will lead to chaos or revenge politics.

These practices reveal how parts of the opposition have also embraced narrative warfare as a strategic tool. This narrative is used to amplify violence, inflate harm, and suppress competing interpretations. It aims to redefine the uprising not merely as a domestic revolt, but as a humanitarian and security crisis that demands foreign intervention.

In doing so, it mirrors the regime’s own effort to weaponise storytelling in a conflict where perception is as consequential as power.

In different ways, both narratives ultimately sideline the protesters themselves. They reduce a diverse, grassroots movement into an instrument of power struggle, either to legitimise repression at home or justify intervention from abroad.