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War deepens generational rift inside Iranian-American households
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War deepens generational rift inside Iranian-American households Tamara Turki on Tue, 04/28/2026 - 16:45 Iranian Americans are commonly portrayed as 'monarchists', but younger anti-war voices are challenging that notion, starting at home An Anti-war demonstrator speaks near the White House to protest against the US-Israeli war on Iran, in Washington, DC, on 7 April 2026 (File/AFP) Off As a fragile ceasefire between the US and Iran holds, thousands in the Iranian-American diaspora are still reeling from the wave of infighting over the war, one that has both painfully and publicly fractured the community. To outsiders, those disagreements look like explosive arguments on social media and duelling protests either celebrating or condemning US-Israeli air strikes on the Islamic Republic. The most difficult tensions, however, are unfolding far from public view, inside living rooms and across dinner tables, where families grapple over Iran’s future. Recent polling points to a generational divide within the diaspora in views on the war. A March 2026 survey by the Public Affairs Alliance of Iranian Americans found that individuals aged 18 to 34 are less likely to support US-Israeli strikes or US backing of opposition figures seeking political change in Iran. Younger Iranian Americans are also more inclined towards diplomatic engagement, including easing sanctions rather than pursuing regime change, and express greater concern about civilian casualties in Iran. (adsbygoogle = window.adsbygoogle || []).push({}); “Living with my grandma when I was young, she taught me that it’s really easy to be loud and wrong,” Rei Gundo, a 26-year-old anti-war Iranian American from Michigan, told Middle East Eye. Rei said growing up around Iranian women shaped his view of the Islamic Republic as oppressive, particularly towards women. He cited stories from his mother, who was politically active in Michigan during the 2022 “Woman, Life, Freedom” movement, about the harassment and abuse young women faced at the hands of the morality police in her youth in Iran. 'A lot of my friends are having the same struggle. We joke about how shocked our families are that we're not 100 percent for Pahlavi' - Mahon Mahmodian, Iranian-American But Rei’s father, who is Black and from New York City, also played a part in shaping his early understanding of inequality. Conversations with relatives on his father’s side challenged what he was taught in school, leading him to question dominant accounts of slavery and Black history. As he’s gotten older, he says, that instinct drives him to challenge narratives about American imperialism and racism - and apply those to Iran. “As you get older, you develop more opinions. One thing I think about a lot is that the US can be just as oppressive for women.” His opposition to US military involvement in Iran has led to frequent confrontations in recent months with his grandmother, who backs US intervention to remove the current government and supports the return of exiled crown prince, Reza Pahlavi. “If my grandma were an indicator of monarchists in this country, they just want America to win and don’t care about anything else except getting the government out. That’s not going to happen. America has never gone to war and toppled a government without destroying the country.” Information war Despite the emotional toll of tensions at home, Rei said he shows greater patience with his grandmother, committing to the long, often frustrating, process of repeated conversations in hopes of changing her views, an effort he wouldn’t extend to a friend or acquaintance. “My grandma’s views on the genocide in Gaza have changed, but that was a battle. So change is possible, but we have to remember people have been exposed to years of propaganda.” Rei says the most challenging part is that his grandmother has spent years watching Persian-language satellite channels like Manoto, which has shaped her understanding of events in Iran. These Iranians supported the US-Israeli war. Now they realise their mistake Read More » Funded by a monarchist couple, the London-based network blends entertainment with political commentary and ranks among the two most popular Persian-language satellite channels for Iranian audiences, especially older generations who distrust social media. Manoto often presents Iran’s recent history through a nostalgic lens, portraying the Pahlavi era as a “golden age” and the 1979 revolution as the root of the country’s current crises. The channel went off air in 2010, but continues to operate online. Another outlet popular among the diaspora is Iran International, founded in 2017, which is a 24-hour Persian-language news channel linked by a Guardian investigation to Saudi funding via a secretive offshore entity. It has also faced criticism from Iranian journalists and scholars as a mouthpiece for some of the government’s most hardline opponents, including pro-Israel voices. Sahar Sadeghi, an Iranian-American sociology professor at Muhlenberg College, said these channels have circulated largely unsubstantiated claims that have nonetheless taken hold as accepted fact among monarchy-sympathetic Iranians. “These narratives give a veneer of credibility to certain foreign policy aims and claims of the United States and Israel,” she told MEE. “It speaks to the power of media not only to deliver information, but to frame people’s priorities and identities in ways that help them make sense of the world.” Sadeghi said generational differences in how people consume and interpret media are critical. Younger Iranian Americans, she said, have been socialised in an environment where surveillance and information manipulation are assumed, making them more sceptical, while older generations are more likely to accept information at face value, especially when it aligns with expectations. 'When people are operating from fundamentally different understandings of basic facts, it becomes difficult to have productive conversations' - Sahar Sadeghi, Iranian-American professor “When people are operating from fundamentally different understandings of basic facts, it becomes difficult to have productive conversations or resolve disagreements,” she said. “I think we are going to see a continued deepening of both ideological and epistemic fragmentation." Sunia Sadeghi, who grew up in San Francisco, recalled a conversation with her mother about the 28 February air strike on an elementary school in Minab that killed more than 150 people, many of them children. Her mother countered with claims that the Islamic Republic had killed 30,000 within days, a figure Sunia said she recognised from coverage by Iran International. “That’s a talking point a lot of diaspora Iranians raise,” the 27-year-old anti-war Iranian American said. “It’s something they’ve likely seen repeated in hateful commentary online. People cite different numbers, 90,000, 60,000, 30,000, but none of them are confirmed.” From assimilation to disillusionment From an early age, Sunia said she felt othered, aware that her appearance, culture, and family life set her apart from her peers. Wanting to fit in, she said she embraced an American identity shaped by school teachings emphasising freedom and liberty, while portraying Iran as a repressive theocracy. That shifted when she began studying history at the University of Michigan, where her political education developed. “I’m not proud to be an American anymore,” Sunia said, adding that she feels anger toward the US for its imperial actions throughout history. (adsbygoogle = window.adsbygoogle || []).push({}); “On the other hand, it seems to me that my extended family sees America as a saviour in some ways because of how sanctions have impacted the economic situation in Iran. People come here and are able to make money, and they’re struck by a sense of freedom and possibility.” Her father immigrated to the US in the late 1970s, just before the revolution, on a student visa, while her mother arrived later in the early 1990s. Sunia describes her mother’s desire to see the Islamic Republic removed as a trauma response to growing up after the revolution. “I’ve really been trying to have empathy over the past couple of months. But when I talk to my parents about this, they’ll tell me ‘You don’t know what it’s like’ and that can feel invalidating,” she said. Sunia recalled growing up in a family that was proud to be Iranian, making it difficult to reconcile that with what she sees as a false promise of freedom tied to the government’s collapse. She said her family views the Islamic Republic as the lowest point, but warned that scenarios like civil war, fragmentation and widespread destruction could be far worse. (adsbygoogle = window.adsbygoogle || []).push({}); “In order to fix your country, you still have to have a country to fix.” Lack of connection ‘drives the divide’ Manijeh Moradian, a professor of Women’s, Gender and Sexuality Studies at Barnard College, said the rise in pro-monarchist sentiment can be partly understood as a response to the crushing of grassroots movements in Iran since 2022, including the January 2026 nationwide protests over the currency collapse, which saw thousands killed. These spaces for self-determination, she said, offered alternatives to both the Islamic Republic and western intervention before being met with violent repression, leaving a deep sense of despair. That despair has been compounded by a severe economic crisis, with many struggling to afford necessities amid soaring inflation and unpaid wages. Majority of Iranian Americans oppose US strikes on Iran, poll finds Read More » “When people feel they have no future, many begin to lose faith in their own ability to create change,” Moradian said. “With US and Israeli messaging constantly circulating in Iranian households, the idea begins to take hold for some that maybe an outside force is the only option.” “To me, that’s a devastating and frightening development. When people feel so powerless that they begin to welcome intervention from forces associated with war and destruction in places like Gaza, Iraq and Afghanistan, it reflects a level of defeat that can open the door to deeply reactionary outcomes.” Meanwhile, Moradian said younger Iranian Americans came of age during the Palestine solidarity movement, with some involved in student encampments, while many others watched the violence unfold in real time on their phones. “Once you take a position against what is happening in Gaza, it becomes very difficult to see Israel as a potential liberator of your own people." Mahon Mahmodian, a 31-year-old anti-war Iranian American from Tennessee, said years of displacement, immigrant life, and worsening conditions in Iran have hardened his parents’ outlook. The shift, intensified by deadly crackdowns on January protests, has left them focused on removing the government at any cost. Meanwhile, he says he takes a longer, more sceptical view shaped by a broader geopolitical context. “A lot of my friends are having the same struggle. We joke about how shocked our families are that we're not 100 percent for Pahlavi. But when we talk to our parents, our conversations are really fruitful,” he said. A Zogby Analytics survey shows a shift in opinion, with nearly two-thirds of Iranian Americans now opposing the war. At the start of the US-Israel war on Iran, views were nearly evenly divided. Unlike online exchanges or distant friends, Mahon described growing mutual understanding within his family, with each side more open to differing views shaped by their experiences. “It’s sad, but in the larger diaspora in the US, there’s often a lack of truly humanising the person on the other side,” he added. “People see them as just another voice rather than someone they have a real connection with. That lack of connection can drive the divide.” War on Iran News Post Date Override 0 Update Date Mon, 05/04/2020 - 21:19 Update Date Override 0
As a fragile ceasefire between the US and Iran holds, thousands in the Iranian-American diaspora are still reeling from the wave of infighting over the war, one that has both painfully and publicly fractured the community.To outsiders, those disagreements look like explosive arguments on social media and duelling protests either celebrating or condemning US-Israeli air strikes on the Islamic Republic.The most difficult tensions, however, are unfolding far from public view, inside living rooms and across dinner tables, where families grapple over Iran’s future.Recent polling points to a generational divide within the diaspora in views on the war. A March 2026 survey by the Public Affairs Alliance of Iranian Americans found that individuals aged 18 to 34 are less likely to support US-Israeli strikes or US backing of opposition figures seeking political change in Iran. Younger Iranian Americans are also more inclined towards diplomatic engagement, including easing sanctions rather than pursuing regime change, and express greater concern about civilian casualties in Iran.“Living with my grandma when I was young, she taught me that it’s really easy to be loud and wrong,” Rei Gundo, a 26-year-old anti-war Iranian American from Michigan, told Middle East Eye. Rei said growing up around Iranian women shaped his view of the Islamic Republic as oppressive, particularly towards women. He cited stories from his mother, who was politically active in Michigan during the 2022 “Woman, Life, Freedom” movement, about the harassment and abuse young women faced at the hands of the morality police in her youth in Iran.'A lot of my friends are having the same struggle. We joke about how shocked our families are that we're not 100 percent for Pahlavi'- Mahon Mahmodian, Iranian-AmericanBut Rei’s father, who is Black and from New York City, also played a part in shaping his early understanding of inequality.Conversations with relatives on his father’s side challenged what he was taught in school, leading him to question dominant accounts of slavery and Black history. As he’s gotten older, he says, that instinct drives him to challenge narratives about American imperialism and racism - and apply those to Iran.“As you get older, you develop more opinions. One thing I think about a lot is that the US can be just as oppressive for women.”His opposition to US military involvement in Iran has led to frequent confrontations in recent months with his grandmother, who backs US intervention to remove the current government and supports the return of exiled crown prince, Reza Pahlavi.“If my grandma were an indicator of monarchists in this country, they just want America to win and don’t care about anything else except getting the government out. That’s not going to happen. America has never gone to war and toppled a government without destroying the country.”Despite the emotional toll of tensions at home, Rei said he shows greater patience with his grandmother, committing to the long, often frustrating, process of repeated conversations in hopes of changing her views, an effort he wouldn’t extend to a friend or acquaintance.“My grandma’s views on the genocide in Gaza have changed, but that was a battle. So change is possible, but we have to remember people have been exposed to years of propaganda.”Rei says the most challenging part is that his grandmother has spent years watching Persian-language satellite channels like Manoto, which has shaped her understanding of events in Iran.Funded by a monarchist couple, the London-based network blends entertainment with political commentary and ranks among the two most popular Persian-language satellite channels for Iranian audiences, especially older generations who distrust social media.Manoto often presents Iran’s recent history through a nostalgic lens, portraying the Pahlavi era as a “golden age” and the 1979 revolution as the root of the country’s current crises. The channel went off air in 2010, but continues to operate online.Another outlet popular among the diaspora is Iran International, founded in 2017, which is a 24-hour Persian-language news channel linked by a Guardian investigation to Saudi funding via a secretive offshore entity. It has also faced criticism from Iranian journalists and scholars as a mouthpiece for some of the government’s most hardline opponents, including pro-Israel voices.Sahar Sadeghi, an Iranian-American sociology professor at Muhlenberg College, said these channels have circulated largely unsubstantiated claims that have nonetheless taken hold as accepted fact among monarchy-sympathetic Iranians. “These narratives give a veneer of credibility to certain foreign policy aims and claims of the United States and Israel,” she told MEE. “It speaks to the power of media not only to deliver information, but to frame people’s priorities and identities in ways that help them make sense of the world.”Sadeghi said generational differences in how people consume and interpret media are critical. Younger Iranian Americans, she said, have been socialised in an environment where surveillance and information manipulation are assumed, making them more sceptical, while older generations are more likely to accept information at face value, especially when it aligns with expectations.'When people are operating from fundamentally different understandings of basic facts, it becomes difficult to have productive conversations'- Sahar Sadeghi, Iranian-American professor“When people are operating from fundamentally different understandings of basic facts, it becomes difficult to have productive conversations or resolve disagreements,” she said. “I think we are going to see a continued deepening of both ideological and epistemic fragmentation."Sunia Sadeghi, who grew up in San Francisco, recalled a conversation with her mother about the 28 February air strike on an elementary school in Minab that killed more than 150 people, many of them children. Her mother countered with claims that the Islamic Republic had killed 30,000 within days, a figure Sunia said she recognised from coverage by Iran International.“That’s a talking point a lot of diaspora Iranians raise,” the 27-year-old anti-war Iranian American said. “It’s something they’ve likely seen repeated in hateful commentary online. People cite different numbers, 90,000, 60,000, 30,000, but none of them are confirmed.”From an early age, Sunia said she felt othered, aware that her appearance, culture, and family life set her apart from her peers. Wanting to fit in, she said she embraced an American identity shaped by school teachings emphasising freedom and liberty, while portraying Iran as a repressive theocracy.That shifted when she began studying history at the University of Michigan, where her political education developed.“I’m not proud to be an American anymore,” Sunia said, adding that she feels anger toward the US for its imperial actions throughout history. “On the other hand, it seems to me that my extended family sees America as a saviour in some ways because of how sanctions have impacted the economic situation in Iran. People come here and are able to make money, and they’re struck by a sense of freedom and possibility.”Her father immigrated to the US in the late 1970s, just before the revolution, on a student visa, while her mother arrived later in the early 1990s.Sunia describes her mother’s desire to see the Islamic Republic removed as a trauma response to growing up after the revolution.“I’ve really been trying to have empathy over the past couple of months. But when I talk to my parents about this, they’ll tell me ‘You don’t know what it’s like’ and that can feel invalidating,” she said. Sunia recalled growing up in a family that was proud to be Iranian, making it difficult to reconcile that with what she sees as a false promise of freedom tied to the government’s collapse. She said her family views the Islamic Republic as the lowest point, but warned that scenarios like civil war, fragmentation and widespread destruction could be far worse.“In order to fix your country, you still have to have a country to fix.”Manijeh Moradian, a professor of Women’s, Gender and Sexuality Studies at Barnard College, said the rise in pro-monarchist sentiment can be partly understood as a response to the crushing of grassroots movements in Iran since 2022, including the January 2026 nationwide protests over the currency collapse, which saw thousands killed.These spaces for self-determination, she said, offered alternatives to both the Islamic Republic and western intervention before being met with violent repression, leaving a deep sense of despair. That despair has been compounded by a severe economic crisis, with many struggling to afford necessities amid soaring inflation and unpaid wages. “When people feel they have no future, many begin to lose faith in their own ability to create change,” Moradian said. “With US and Israeli messaging constantly circulating in Iranian households, the idea begins to take hold for some that maybe an outside force is the only option.”“To me, that’s a devastating and frightening development. When people feel so powerless that they begin to welcome intervention from forces associated with war and destruction in places like Gaza, Iraq and Afghanistan, it reflects a level of defeat that can open the door to deeply reactionary outcomes.”Meanwhile, Moradian said younger Iranian Americans came of age during the Palestine solidarity movement, with some involved in student encampments, while many others watched the violence unfold in real time on their phones.“Once you take a position against what is happening in Gaza, it becomes very difficult to see Israel as a potential liberator of your own people."Mahon Mahmodian, a 31-year-old anti-war Iranian American from Tennessee, said years of displacement, immigrant life, and worsening conditions in Iran have hardened his parents’ outlook. The shift, intensified by deadly crackdowns on January protests, has left them focused on removing the government at any cost. Meanwhile, he says he takes a longer, more sceptical view shaped by a broader geopolitical context.“A lot of my friends are having the same struggle. We joke about how shocked our families are that we're not 100 percent for Pahlavi. But when we talk to our parents, our conversations are really fruitful,” he said. A Zogby Analytics survey shows a shift in opinion, with nearly two-thirds of Iranian Americans now opposing the war. At the start of the US-Israel war on Iran, views were nearly evenly divided.Unlike online exchanges or distant friends, Mahon described growing mutual understanding within his family, with each side more open to differing views shaped by their experiences.“It’s sad, but in the larger diaspora in the US, there’s often a lack of truly humanising the person on the other side,” he added. “People see them as just another voice rather than someone they have a real connection with. That lack of connection can drive the divide.”