By Masih Alinejad

Masih Alinejad is an Iranian journalist, author and women’s rights campaigner. A member of the Human Rights Foundation’s International Council, she hosts “Tablet,” a talk show on Voice of America’s Persian service.

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My heart goes out to Salman Rushdie. I’m deeply appalled by the attempt on his life and extremely relieved that he survived.

The attack on Rushdie was an act of terrorism. That’s what President Biden and other Western leaders should call it. The media in Iran have been celebrating it, regretting only that the assailant didn’t manage to kill Rushdie. The brutal regime in Tehran has a history of encouraging acts of violence to undermine our freedoms. Why aren’t we taking a stronger stand?

The attack on Rushdie struck especially close to home for me. I, too, have been repeatedly targeted by the vicious regime in Tehran for my criticisms of its hateful policies against women. Two weeks ago, I got a lucky break: Police arrested a man with a loaded AK-47-style rifle in his car after he made a failed attempt to enter my house in Brooklyn. The incident recalls another plot foiled by the FBI in 2021, when federal prosecutors charged four alleged Iranian agents with conspiring to kidnap me and take me back to Iran. At the time, I had to go into hiding for a while; now the FBI has put me under its protection again.

Eugene Robinson: My dinner with Salman Rushdie

Now I find myself living in a safe house with featureless white walls adorned with replica modern paintings; this is where I was when I learned about the attack on Rushdie. It might be safe, but it’s not my home. Until two weeks ago, I lived in a beautiful house in Brooklyn surrounded by loving neighbors who, since my unwilling departure, have been watering my flower beds in solidarity with my plight. Since the attack on Rushdie, the official Telegram channel of the Revolutionary Guard Corps and others in Iran on social media have been praising the would-be killer. They’ve also been saying that I should be next.

Rushdie himself knows only too well what this situation is like. After Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini issued a fatwa in 1989 calling for the author to be killed over his book “The Satanic Verses” (which Khomeini deemed offensive to Muslims), Rushdie ended up living in a safe house for most of the next 10 years. That lifestyle took its toll. By around 2001, he was sick of the living in the shadows and began making public appearances again. He even wrote a memoir about his experience. Everything seemed fine.

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After years on the run, Rushdie might have concluded that he had regained his freedom. Now that assumption is over. In fact, Khomeini’s threat against him was never lifted; Iran’s current supreme leader affirmed the original fatwa on Twitter as recently as 2019, and the bounty for killing Rushdie now stands at more than $3 million. Apologists claiming there is no link with Iran should consider the headline with which the main state newspaper in Tehran celebrated Mr. Rushdie’s wound: “Satan’s eye has been blinded.”

I have often thought of Rushdie and his plight over the past two years when my own journey in and out of safe houses first began. I often wondered how Rushdie coped with the physical and mental hardships of enforced imprisonment. To be in a safe house is like being back in quarantine — except that there seems to be no vaccine against the fanaticism of the Iranian regime.

Matt Bai: The attack on Salman Rushdie is a warning about where we’re headed

The fact that a religious fundamentalist regime issues fatwas against those who criticize them is not surprising. What is shocking is the lack of action from democratic governments around the world, which should be categorically denouncing these actions. In the sleepy town of Chautauqua, N.Y., Rushdie was about to lead a discussion about the role of the United States as a haven for exiled writers and other artists under threat of persecution. The irony is not lost on me.

I have no intention of disappearing from public view. The activist in me wonders how many more times someone on U.S. soil will be a target of the Iranian regime and its supporters before concrete action is taken. The other part of me wonders whether I will be able to do banal, normal things such as walking to the local bakery or sitting outside on a winter day and drinking hot chocolate.

What has driven so much of the intensity of my activism is a sense of obligation and camaraderie with the many women, journalists and human rights activists who have stood up for liberal values inside Iran and paid a steep price. I owe it to them to use the freedoms I have enjoyed in Western democracies to give them a voice. I do not want to die and will have to take precautions, but I intend to live a life free from fear, with a garden and loving neighbors, no matter what it takes. I hope Rushdie recovers quickly. One day I’d like to thank him — and maybe even show him our flower beds.

The Washington Post

Masih Alinejad, a journalist who lives in Brooklyn, was the target of an international kidnapping plot last year, according to a federal indictment and the writer 

Masih Alinejad, an Iranian American journalist, was the target of a kidnapping plot last year.Credit…Cole Wilson for The New York Times
By Benjamin Weiser

A man was arrested on Friday after he was found with a loaded AK-47 assault rifle outside the Brooklyn home of an Iranian American journalist who was the target of an international kidnapping plot said to be orchestrated by an Iranian intelligence network last year, according to the journalist, a court document and a person briefed on the matter.

The journalist, Masih Alinejad, 45, has been outspoken in her criticism of the Iranian government, writing two years ago that Iranian officials had unleashed a social media campaign that called for her abduction. In a federal indictment unsealed a year ago in Manhattan, four Iranians were charged with conspiring to kidnap her and forcibly return her to Iran.

In the new case, law enforcement observed a man, Khalid Mehdiyev, behaving suspiciously near Ms. Alinejad’s home over two days last week, according to a criminal complaint filed in Federal District Court in Manhattan on Friday.


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On Thursday morning, the complaint said, Mr. Mehdiyev arrived outside her home in a gray Subaru Forester SUV with an Illinois license plate and remained in the vicinity for several hours. During that time, he ordered food to be delivered to the car, approached the residence, appeared to try to peer inside the windows and attempted to open the front door, the complaint said.

That afternoon, he left and was stopped by New York City police officers after failing to obey a stop sign. He was arrested after the police determined that he was driving without a license and that his license had been suspended, the complaint said.

The police found a suitcase on the rear seat of the car, containing the AK-47 with an obliterated serial number, the complaint said. The rifle was loaded with a round in the chamber and a magazine attached, along with a second, separate magazine and about 66 rounds of ammunition. The rifle had markings showing it was made by Norinco, a Chinese state-owned manufacturer of firearms and military supplies.

The complaint does not identify Ms. Alinejad, an American citizen, but she said in a phone interview on Sunday that she was told by the authorities that the man in question was outside her house. She also said she had home security footage showing him outside her front door.

“I came here in America to be safe,” she said. “First, they were trying to kidnap me. And now I see a man with a loaded gun trying to enter my house. I mean, it’s shocking.”

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Ms. Alinejad said she and her family have since moved to a safe location.

Security footage provided by Ms. Alinejad showed a man who she said was Khalid Mehdiyev on her porch.Credit…Masih Alinejad

Mr. Mehdiyev, who was charged with one count of possessing a firearm with an obliterated serial number, was ordered detained without bond by a federal magistrate judge. Mr. Mehdiyev’s lawyer, Stephanie Carvlin, declined to comment. The U.S. attorney’s office also declined to comment.


Security footage provided by Ms. Alinejad showed a man who she said was Khalid Mehdiyev on her porch.Credit…Masih Alinejad

The indictment made public in July 2021 in the kidnapping plot said that an Iranian official and a network of intelligence operatives used private investigators to surveil, photograph and video-record Ms. Alinejad and members of her household. The surveillance included a live, high-definition video feed showing her house, the prosecutors said.

Audrey Strauss, the U.S. attorney in Manhattan at the time, said then that an American citizen living in the United States “must be able to advocate for human rights without being targeted by foreign intelligence operatives.”

Ms. Alinejad, in an interview last year with The New York Times, said she had been shocked when she learned the full details of the alleged Iranian kidnapping plot.

“That shows that they’re not scared of America — they’re scared of me,” she said then. “Otherwise, they would not send anyone here to kidnap me.”

The complaint filed against Mr. Mehdiyev, which was signed by an F.B.I. special agent, said that inside the suitcase, the authorities also found $1,100 in $100 bills, two license plates from other states with different numbers and a New York State learner’s permit listing an address in Yonkers as Mr. Mehdiyev’s residence

The complaint said that at a Brooklyn police precinct where Mr. Mehdiyev was taken, he waived his Miranda rights and told agents he was in Brooklyn looking for a new apartment because his rent was too high, according to the complaint.

He said he had attempted to open the outer door of the residence in order to knock on the inner door and ask if the occupants would rent him a room, but he changed his mind because he thought someone might be sleeping, the complaint said.

Without being asked about the AK-47 found in the car, he volunteered that he did not know anything about a gun and claimed the suitcase was not his, the complaint said.

Later, Mr. Mehdiyev asked to speak again with the agents. He said that the AK-47 was his and that he was in Brooklyn because he was looking for someone. He then asked for a lawyer and declined to speak further, the complaint said.

Masih Alinejad is an Iranian journalist, author and women’s rights campaigner. She hosts “Tablet,” a talk show on Voice of America’s Persian service.

On July 17, Instagram restricted my access. I still don’t understand why.

What did I do wrong? I still don’t know. Instagram didn’t initially offer any explanation. I might guess that my offense was giving voice to the voiceless in Iran. My 7 million followers on Instagram make for a powerful platform.

On July 12, Iranian women had staged a day of action to challenge the Islamic republic’s National Day of Hijab and Chastity, set up to reinforce the country’s harsh law on forced veiling. Over the next days, I posted many videos on my social media feeds showing women defying the regime’s official dress code.

There were confrontations between these women and the morality police and security forces. In one video from July 16, a hijab-wearing woman films a bareheaded woman on a bus, warning that she will send the recording to the Revolutionary Guard Corps. Another woman on the bus films her in return.

“I know you are filming me now to send it to Masih Alinejad. She cannot do anything to me. But the Revolutionary Guards will destroy you,” says the traditionally attired woman. One of the other female passengers retorts, “I’ll send my video to the whole world.” Other passengers stop the bus and push out the veiled harasser. (The woman who refused to wear the hijab was later arrested.)

That video — which I shared — went viral on social media; it was viewed 2.5 million times on Instagram and more than 1 million times on Twitter. It shows how many women are resisting forced Islamization.

A day later, I suddenly received a message from Instagram informing me that it had restricted my access: “We limit how often you can do certain things on Instagram to protect our community.” For a full day, I wasn’t able to use Instagram Live. There was no further explanation or appeals process. “Tell us if you think we made a mistake,” the note concluded, offering two options, “Tell us” and “OK.”

So I clicked on “Tell us.” I got a pop-up window that said: “Thank you, your response has been recorded.”

That was it.

(Asked to comment, an Instagram representative said the restriction “was placed on Masih’s account incorrectly because of a technical issue,” explaining that the platform automatically issues restrictions “when our systems detect spammy behavior.” The representative added: “It is against our policies to take action on accounts at the request of the Iranian government.”)

Since launching the “My Stealthy Freedom” campaign (1 million followers) against compulsory hijab on Facebook and Instagram in 2014, I have been targeted by the Iranian regime for my activities. I spent months in multiple safe houses last year after the FBI foiled a plot by Iranian agents to kidnap me in New York and whisk me back to Iran. On all my social media platforms, I am targeted by cyberbullies, fake accounts spreading false narratives, and even troll accounts impersonating my page.

But now I also feel targeted by the social media platforms. Earlier this year, I met some fellow Iranians who said they couldn’t find me on Instagram. Odd but true! Despite my officially verified account and millions of followers, I was invisible to the network’s search engines. If you typed my name in the search box, more than 50 accounts popped up — but none was mine. (By comparison, when my husband, a Led Zeppelin fan, typed in “Jimmy P,” the verified account of Jimmy Page came up immediately.)

This was not some random glitch. To me, it seemed that someone had gone to a lot of trouble to make me unfindable on Instagram.

I managed to complain to Sheryl Sandberg, chief operating officer of Meta, which owns Instagram. The company fixed the problem after a week, but no one ever explained how it was possible for this to have happened in the first place. (The Instagram representative said there have been “instances where we’ve removed content from [my] account in error, mistakenly believing they broke our rules.”

I’m glad Instagram has admitted its mistakes. Technical issues happen; social media restrictions aren’t necessarily proof of censorship or nefarious influence. But there’s a troubling pattern here. Why did the system restrict my account right at the moment when I was about to promote a protest against compulsory hijab? If algorithms have the power to restrict accounts, can the Iranian regime game those systems in its own favor?

And then there’s the human factor. Many Iranians have been accusing Instagram and Facebook content moderators of deleting or censoring accounts that track the regime’s human rights abuses. In May, Iran International blamed Instagram for removing images of security forces beating protesters and firing tear gas into crowds.

Meanwhile, whistleblowers who had worked for Telus International, a company hired by Instagram to monitor content, claimed that Iranian agents have offered as much as $10,000 to delete and censor accounts (including mine) that report on human rights violations. (Telus International told the BBC that it believed the accusations were false “but that it took them very seriously and had launched an investigation into their merits.” In its statement to The Post, Instagram also said it has seen no evidence for the claims but is investigating as well.)

Last week, when security forces stormed the houses of the activist group Mothers for Justice, they warned members of the group to stop using Instagram to speak up about the killing of their children. That tells you everything you need to know about Instagram’s importance as a means for creating open discussion in Iran.

Social media gives ordinary people a chance to push back against the lies of authoritarian regimes such as Iran’s. Social media companies should not be doing the work of authoritarian governments. They should be helping to spread the truth.


A women’s rights activist with over 7 million followers on Instagram has warned that Iran may be manipulating the platform’s moderation system in its own favor.

In an op-ed entitled “Does Instagram Have a Problem with Iranian Dissidents?” in the Washington Post on Monday, the US-based activist Masih Alinejad recounted her recent problems with Instagram including loss of access to Instagram’s ‘live’ feature. She said this happened right after she posted a video of a confrontation on a city bus in Tehran between a hijab-wearing woman and another who refused to cover her head.

The video posted by Alinejad went viral on social media and had over 2.5 million views on her own account within a short time.

Ali Khan-Mohammadi, the spokesperson of Iran’s Headquarters For Enjoining Right And Forbidding Evil, tasked with promoting the Islamic Republic’s interpretation of Islamic laws, said on Saturday that based on the Islamic Republic’s Penal Code any cooperation and sending videos to Alinejad could result in one to ten years imprisonment.

Khan-Mohammadi argued that sending material to Alinejad would be considered as collaboration with “enemies and hostile media networks” because since 2021 she has been “an official member of the CIA”.

Asked by the Washington Post to comment, an Instagram representative said the restriction “was placed on Masih’s account incorrectly because of a technical issue,” explaining that the platform automatically issues restrictions “when our systems detect spammy behavior.” The representative added: “It is against our policies to take action on accounts at the request of the Iranian government.”

But Alinejad is not convinced and says it is not some random glitch as it appears there even a more serious issue. Some fellow Iranians have not been able to find her on Instagram despite having an officially verified account and millions of followers.

“Technical issues happen; social media restrictions aren’t necessarily proof of censorship or nefarious influence. But there’s a troubling pattern here,” she wrote.

“Why did the system restrict my account right at the moment when I was about to promote a protest against compulsory hijab? If algorithms have the power to restrict accounts, can the Iranian regime game those systems in its own favor?” she asked while mentioning that human factor could be involved.

In the past few months other Iranian activists and groups have complained about restriction on public access to their Instagram direct messages as well as removal of hashtags, videos, and posts related to ongoing protests in the country.

In May, a Persian-language content moderator for Instagram and a former content moderator told BBC Persian that Iranian intelligence officials offered them money to remove Instagram accounts of journalists and activists. Both content moderators also accused some Iranian colleagues of exhibiting “pro-regime bias” when reviewing posts on the photo-sharing service.

The former content moderator who spoke on condition of anonymity told the BBC that he “personally knew some reviewers who supported the Iranian regime and received instructions from Iran”.

Both the current and the former moderator worked for the Germany-based Persian-language moderators’ group of Telus International, the third-party company responsible for dealing with reports and complaints from Instagram and Facebook users.

In May, Iran International also complained about its videos from protests in Iran being removed by Instagram.

Instagram which has around 45 million users in Iran is the only major social media platform not blocked in the country where other platforms such as Facebook, YouTube, WhatsApp, Twitter, and Telegram cannot be accessed without the use of internet blockage circumvention software and VPNs.

Iran has one of the world’s worse internet censorships, with tens of thousands of websites blocked since the early 2000s and most social media platforms banned. In the absence of free media and the very high level of censorship, many Iranians turn to social media for political news and information.


Nationwide Protest Against Compulsory Hijab

July 12, Streets of Iran

by #WhiteWednesdays and #MyCameraIsMyWeapon Campaigns

For forty years, we, Iranian women, have been fighting against the compulsory hijab in various campaigns. We have gained experience along the way and our demand for the right to choose clothing and our protest against physical and mental violence caused by the compulsory hijab has turned into one of the main civil movements of today’s Iran. We say NO to forty years of humiliation of Iranian men and women. Our protest is against  discrimination and humiliation cause by the compulsory hiajb, not a piece of cloth. Our demand is to respect human dignity, freedom of opinion and the right to choose our own clothing and lifestyle, and to “SAY NO” to gender apartheid.

Every day of our life has become protest and civil disobedience. Men and women stand together shoulder to shoulder along this path in collective actions. Now, we Iranian men and women against the compulsory hijab, continue all the protests of the last 40 years, in a wider campaign of No2Hijab (#حجاب_بی_حجاب) and we are determined to once again appear in the public spaces of our cities wearing our choice of clothing and protest. Our goal is to show solidarity against the fundamental concept of compulsory hijab as one of the pillars of a religious dictatorship. We believe that if we break any pillar of this apartheid government, we will get closer to freedom. Join us!

We, the women, say “NO” to compulsory hijab. We say “NO” to a regime whose laws are all anti-women. Let’s keep this discrimination in our minds daily and remember that it is with the money and budget of this country that they want to celebrate hijab and chastity on July 12th, in the stadium where women are banned from entering. Let’s take back our share of the streets on July 12th, on the same day. Spread this message to all the people who are against the compulsory hijab. In parties, schools, workplaces, public transportation, shopping centers and other spaces that allow us to communicate collectively, we can convey our message to our fellow citizens.

We invite all Iranian women and men, members of the women’s movement, students’ movement, retirees, labor workers, athletes and other justice seeking movements of Iran to join the fight against the compulsory hijab in any way they can. Let each of us carry a torch as far as we can. Do not wait for a leader. Do not wait for a savior. Each of us protesting women is a leader for change. If each of us brings a friend or family, we will make the biggest demonstration against the compulsory hijab.




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