From diaspora communities scattered across Europe and Canada, nineteen Iranian leftist collectives have issued a letter of solidarity that reaches beyond gratitude into political philosophy: a meditation on what it truly means to oppose domination. Against the backdrop of accelerating executions in Iranian prisons and 135 consecutive weeks of coordinated hunger strikes across 61 facilities, these groups — many of whose members survived imprisonment or the mass killings of 1988 — argue that anti-imperialism loses its soul the moment it begins deciding which lives are worth defending. Their answ
Iranian Leftist Collectives Call for 'Internationalism from Below' Against Execution
Human life comes first. The right to exist is not negotiable.
So these Iranian collectives are essentially saying thank you to an international group for defending prisoners. But why does that matter enough to write a whole letter about it?
Because the international letter took a position that was politically dangerous. It defended prisoners facing execution in Iran while also opposing U.S. and Israeli military actions. In today's polarized left, you're supposed to choose a side.
And the Iranian groups are saying that choosing a side is actually a betrayal of anti-imperialism?
Exactly. They're arguing that if you adopt the logic of the state—if you start ranking whose lives matter—you've already lost. You've become what you're fighting against.
But let's be precise about what we know here. The letter says executions have escalated over two years, and there's this 'No to Execution Tuesdays' campaign with 135 weeks of hunger strikes across 61 prisons. Those are real facts. But we don't have independent verification of those numbers, right?
No, we're taking the Iranian collectives' account of it. But the campaign itself is documented—it's been reported on by human rights organizations.
So the core argument is that true solidarity means refusing to let geopolitics override the defense of human life?
Yes. And that this refusal is actually more radical than choosing a side, because it breaks the entire framework that states use to justify killing.
The letter invokes Fanon, but it's a specific reading of Fanon. The claim is that Fanon warned against adopting the colonizer's logic. That's accurate to Fanon's work, but it's also a particular interpretation. Other leftists might read Fanon differently.
So there's a real debate here about what anti-imperialism means?
Absolutely. The Iranian collectives are saying that selective criticism—ignoring some state violence while condemning others—reproduces the hierarchy of lives that imperialism depends on. But other leftists argue that focusing on Iranian state violence can be used to justify Western intervention.
And that tension is real. It's not resolved by this letter. What the letter does is name it clearly and say: we're going to refuse that trap. Whether that's strategically wise is a different question.
So 'internationalism from below' is their answer to that trap?
It's their proposal. It means solidarity based on unconditional opposition to domination, not on geopolitical calculation. Not choosing between empires, but choosing against all empires.
But we should note: this is a letter from diaspora collectives, mostly based in Europe and North America. They're not speaking for prisoners in Iran, and they're not claiming to. That's important to hold.
Why does that matter?
Because it means we're reading a political intervention from outside, not a report from inside the prisons themselves. The prisoners' own voices and resistance are real—the hunger strikes are documented—but this letter is an interpretation of what that resistance means.
Der Puls
- Executions in Iranian prisons have sharply accelerated over two years, running in grim parallel to the widening of regional conflict and the silencing of dissent.
- Prisoners have answered with extraordinary discipline — 135 consecutive weeks of coordinated hunger strikes across 61 prisons, a campaign of resistance that refuses to be invisible.
- Within international leftist circles, speaking against Iranian state violence while also opposing U.S. and Israeli aggression has become politically treacherous, inviting accusations of false equivalence or ideological betrayal.
- The nineteen signatory collectives know this terrain from the inside — many members were themselves imprisoned or witnessed the 1988 mass executions — and they name the courage it takes to refuse the binary anyway.
- Invoking Fanon, they warn that liberation movements which adopt the colonizer's logic of hierarchical lives have already conceded the most important ground, no matter how righteous their geopolitical stance.
- The letter lands as both a thank-you and a manifesto: 'internationalism from below' is proposed not as a compromise position, but as the only foundation on which genuine solidarity can be built.
From diaspora communities scattered across Europe and Canada, nineteen Iranian leftist collectives have issued a letter of solidarity that reaches beyond gratitude into political philosophy: a meditation on what it truly means to oppose domination. Against the backdrop of accelerating executions in Iranian prisons and 135 consecutive weeks of coordinated hunger strikes across 61 facilities, these groups — many of whose members survived imprisonment or the mass killings of 1988 — argue that anti-imperialism loses its soul the moment it begins deciding which lives are worth defending. Their answer is what they call 'internationalism from below': a solidarity rooted not in geopolitical allegiance, but in the unconditional refusal to accept dehumanization from any state.
On August 25th, nineteen Iranian leftist collectives — dispersed across Germany, France, Italy, Canada, and beyond — published an open letter responding to international activists who had publicly defended prisoners facing execution in Iran. The letter was an expression of gratitude, but it was also something more deliberate: an attempt to articulate a framework for solidarity that refuses to subordinate human life to geopolitical allegiance.
The context is stark. Over the past two years, executions inside Iranian prisons have accelerated sharply. In response, a campaign called 'No to Execution Tuesdays' has sustained 135 consecutive weeks of coordinated hunger strikes across 61 prisons. Many of the letter's signatories had themselves been imprisoned in Iran, or had survived the mass executions of political prisoners in the summer of 1988. They were writing from a place of direct, embodied knowledge.
What moved them about the international letter was not only its defense of prisoners' lives, but the political cost its authors had been willing to pay. To criticize executions in Iran while simultaneously opposing U.S. and Israeli military aggression is, in today's polarized left, to invite accusations of false equivalence — of being a 'pro-NATO left,' of providing cover for imperialism. The international signatories had published anyway. The Iranian collectives recognized this as an act of courage, because they had faced identical accusations themselves whenever they refused to stay silent about their own government's violence.
At the philosophical center of their response was a reading of Frantz Fanon — not selective, but complete. Fanon had warned that liberation movements which adopt the colonizer's logic, which begin sorting lives into those worth defending and those that can be sacrificed for a larger cause, have already reproduced the hierarchy they set out to destroy. The Iranian collectives argued this was not a historical lesson but a living strategic imperative: too many anti-imperialist movements had ended up mirroring the dehumanization they opposed, because they accepted the premise that some state murders could be tolerated or ignored.
The international letter had refused that premise. It had insisted that human life is not negotiable — that you cannot build liberation on a foundation of selective grief. This, the Iranian groups argued, is what 'internationalism from below' actually means: solidarity that flows not from the interests of states or great powers, but from an unconditional commitment to opposing domination wherever it appears. They closed not by claiming to speak for all Iranian leftists, but by naming what they saw — and proposing that the refusal to choose between imperialisms is not a weakness, but the only honest ground on which a truly liberating politics can stand.
On August 25th, a coalition of Iranian leftist collectives scattered across Europe, Canada, and beyond released an open letter responding to international activists who had publicly defended prisoners facing execution in Iran. The Iranian groups—nineteen organizations in total, ranging from the Roud Collective to the Transnational Iranian Anti-Fascist Collective—were writing to say thank you, but also to articulate something larger: a framework for solidarity that refuses to choose between competing state powers.
The backdrop is grim. Over the past two years, executions in Iranian prisons have accelerated sharply, running parallel to the intensification of regional conflict. Within this climate, a campaign called 'No to Execution Tuesdays' has organized weekly hunger strikes across 61 prisons in Iran. By the time this letter was published, the campaign had reached its 135th consecutive week of coordinated resistance. Some of the signatories had themselves been imprisoned in Iran; others had survived the mass executions of political prisoners in the summer of 1988. They were writing from lived experience.
What the Iranian collectives appreciated about the international open letter was not merely its defense of prisoners' lives, but the moral stance it took in doing so. The letter had been published at a moment when the political landscape—especially within leftist circles—had become deeply polarized. To speak against executions in Iran while also opposing U.S. and Israeli military aggression in the region was, in this environment, to invite accusations of false equivalence, of sitting safely between two stools, of being a 'pro-NATO left' or worse. The international signatories had done it anyway. They had refused the binary logic that demanded silence on state brutality in the name of anti-imperialism.
The Iranian collectives recognized this as an act of political courage. They had faced identical accusations themselves. When they criticized their own government's violence while simultaneously opposing imperialist intervention, they were told they were downplaying American and Israeli aggression, or that their stance was inherently contradictory. The weight of these accusations—the social and political cost of refusing to choose a side—was something they understood intimately. Yet the international letter had been published anyway, and the Iranian groups wanted to name what that meant.
At the heart of their response was a philosophical argument about what anti-imperialism actually requires. They invoked Frantz Fanon, the theorist of decolonization, but insisted on reading him completely rather than selectively. Fanon had warned that if the colonized adopt the logic of the colonizer during their struggle—if they begin to dehumanize, to categorize lives as more or less worthy of defense—then they have already lost. The Iranian collectives argued that this insight was not historical curiosity; it was strategically urgent. Too many movements against colonialism and imperialism had ended up reproducing the very hierarchies they claimed to oppose, because they had accepted the colonizer's framework: the idea that some lives matter more than others, that certain state murders can be ignored or justified in service of a larger cause.
What the international letter had done, in the Iranian groups' reading, was reject that hierarchy entirely. It had said: human life comes first. The right to exist is not negotiable. You cannot build liberation on a foundation of dehumanization, no matter how righteous your geopolitical position. This was what the Iranian collectives called 'internationalism from below'—a solidarity that did not flow from state interests or the logic of great powers, but from an unconditional commitment to opposing domination in all its forms.
The letter closed with a list of nineteen organizations, most based in diaspora communities across Germany, Italy, France, Canada, and elsewhere. They were not claiming to speak for all Iranian leftists, nor for all prisoners. They were offering solidarity to those who had refused to choose between imperialisms, and they were proposing that this refusal was not a weakness or a compromise, but the only honest ground on which to build a truly liberating politics.
Bemerkenswerte Zitate
If the colonized adopt the logic of the colonizer during their struggle—if they begin to dehumanize, to categorize lives as more or less worthy of defense—then they have already lost.— Iranian collectives, paraphrasing Frantz Fanon's warning about decolonization
A true commitment to anti-colonial and anti-repressive struggles requires avoiding contradictions that lead to assimilation into the logic of the ruling order.— Iranian collectives, on the stakes of selective criticism