Iran’s parliament has ordered the foreign ministry to build a comprehensive database of Iranians living overseas, a binding move seen as part of a broader state strategy to reengage with its global diaspora.
Lawmakers approved Article 5 of the “Support for Iranians Abroad” bill in a public session on Wednesday, mandating that the ministry gather data on expatriates and establish communication mechanisms within six months of the law taking effect.
The ministry must also report annually to the parliament’s National Security and Foreign Policy Committee on progress.
The legislation does not specify what categories of personal data will be collected, how it will be gathered, or whether the consent of individuals will be required.
The measure follows President Masoud Pezeshkian’s public call earlier this month for Iranians abroad to return “without fear,” urging the judiciary and intelligence agencies to coordinate efforts to ensure their safety.
“These individuals are also assets of this land,” Pezeshkian said during a July 26 meeting at the foreign ministry.
He emphasized the need to “create a framework” that encourages comfortable returns, echoing comments by Culture Minister Reza Salehi Amiri, who said the country was “rolling out the red carpet.”
Yet the renewed outreach has been met with skepticism. In recent years, several dual and foreign-based nationals have been detained upon arrival or departure from Iran, often without transparent legal proceedings.
Earlier this week, Siamak Namazi, a former Iranian-American prisoner who was held in Iran for eight years, criticized Pezeshkian’s call, accusing the Islamic Republic of continuing a “heinous diplomacy of hostage-taking.”
Among the most recent cases was Nasrin Roshan, a British-Iranian dual citizen detained in November 2023 at Tehran’s airport and held for 550 days before her release in May. Similarly, Iranian-American journalist Reza Valizadeh was arrested shortly after returning in early 2024 and later sentenced to 10 years in prison by a Revolutionary Court.
The broader legislation, initially passed in outline form last week with support from 209 lawmakers, proposes easing bureaucratic barriers, offering consular services, and revisiting policies on dual citizenship, investment, and education for Iranians abroad.
Still, some lawmakers voiced doubt about its potential impact.
“Until domestic issues such as administrative corruption, a weak banking system, and lack of meritocracy are resolved, this bill will not encourage Iranians to return,” said MP Ahmad Fatemi of Babol earlier this month.
A December 2024 nationwide survey on migration found that while 19% of 12,000 respondents were living abroad, only one in five expressed interest in returning. The same study revealed that just 16% of Iranians were not considering emigration.
Though short-lived, the war inflicted deep symbolic and political damage on Tehran.
Strikes on strategic infrastructure, the killing of top commanders and damage to air defense systems raised serious doubts about the Islamic Republic’s capacity to provide security.
Far from healing old wounds, the war exposed and deepened the theocracy’s core weaknesses.
From water and power shortages to currency volatility, from political gridlock to widening social divides, nearly every facet of life in Iran bears the mark of dysfunction.
Instability is now normalized. It’s not the exception but the constant.
The new normal
Even before the war, Iran faced a web of interlocking crises: economic collapse, institutional decay, mass emigration, widespread social discontent, and deep political distrust.
Some political actors believed tactical flexibility or resource redistribution might restore order. Others foresaw collapse as inevitable. Both camps, in different ways, assumed that transformation—whether internal or external—was still possible.
The war has shifted that assumption.
Iran’s ruling establishment no longer appears capable of restoring legitimacy or reorganizing itself, but viable alternatives also seem more fractured than ever.
The opposition is scattered, the political class adrift, and grassroots movements are fragmented and organizationally thin.
Much of society is caught in a suspended state: disillusioned but not mobilized, angry but exhausted.
The Islamic Republic has tightened control—erecting checkpoints, increasing Revolutionary Guards and Basij presence and policing public spaces.
The message is blunt: We are still here. But this is not stability born of legitimacy. It is the visibility of power imposed on restless cities.
Today’s urban order rests not on consent, but on continuous police presence.
A collapsing narrative
The 12-day war exposed the hollowness of official narratives: deterrence, security and regional authority no longer carry weight.
Iran’s vulnerability wasn’t just military. It was discursive. The state’s security narrative took a direct hit.
Worse, the war ended without a lasting peace or credible guarantee against future conflict. Peace itself has become unstable. It’s more of an anxious interlude, not a resolution.
With explosions and air defense activity continuing in multiple regions, many expect a new, possibly more intense, confrontation.
Living With Crisis
The long-held notion that the Islamic Republic feeds on crisis is no longer sufficient.
In the past, crises were instrumental—tactics to manage society and consolidate power. Today, crisis is not just a means of rule but the system’s very foundation.
Crises are no longer resolved; they are extended, normalized, and embedded into daily life. The system doesn’t merely survive crisis—it is sustained by it.
This condition has been made possible by a combination of factors: the absence of a unifying alternative, the suppression of public discourse, the fragmentation of dissent, and the systematic blocking of political imagination.
The state has succeeded in minimizing mobilization through control—but it offers no vision for legitimacy in return.
Power has become form without content—a hollow repetition of authority sustained by imposed hopelessness.
Yet this persistence is not stability.
Chronic instability may appear contained—thanks to force and habituation—but the cracks are widening. The theocracy is more detached than ever from the economic, social and institutional foundations that once upheld it.
The drift into slow, grinding dysfunction leaves the country vulnerable to sudden shocks: social uprisings in neglected regions, systemic failures in water, health, or energy, or collective protests triggered by seemingly small sparks.
The Islamic Republic may still be standing—but the ground beneath it has never been shakier.