Guns on the television and in Iran’s streets as Trump renews war threats
Guns on the television and in Iran’s streets as Trump renews war threats
Guns on the television and in Iran – With the night descending over Iran’s vast capital, the city’s skyline is bathed in a hazy glow as thousands of citizens gather in public spaces for demonstrations that have become a nightly ritual. These government-backed gatherings, often held in neighborhoods like Tajrish Square, have persisted for nearly three months, underscoring the deepening national resolve against U.S. military interventions. Amid the throng of people waving Iranian flags, the air is thick with the rhythmic echo of “Death to America,” a slogan that has become both a rallying cry and a symbol of defiance. Street vendors, meanwhile, navigate the crowd, offering cups of steaming tea and merchandise that reflects the country’s patriotic fervor—items such as baseball caps and patches emblazoned with the national colors.
At one such rally, a young woman named Tiana stood beside her fellow demonstrators, her glasses mirroring the flag’s vibrant hues. She spoke with a fervor that seemed to match the crowd’s energy, declaring, “I am so ready to give my life for my country and my people.” Her words resonated with others in the group, who echoed her sentiment. “The entire population, the army, and every commander we have—they’re all prepared to lay down their lives and fight with everything they’ve got,” she said, dismissing the latest rhetoric from U.S. President Donald Trump. The president’s recent social media post, published on his Truth Social platform, had warned that Iran would face “a bomb” if it did not comply with his demands. “For Iran, the clock is ticking, and they better get moving fast, or there won’t be anything left of them,” Trump had written, a statement that has only intensified the sense of urgency among protesters.
“I am so ready to sacrifice my life for my country and for my people,” Tiana said above the roaring chants. “All the people, the whole army, all commanders that we have, they’re ready to sacrifice their lives too, and ready to fight with their whole heart and soul.”
As the rallies continue, the government’s efforts to prepare the populace for potential conflict have taken on new dimensions. Public gun kiosks, once a rarity in urban centers, now dot the streets, offering civilians basic instruction in weapon handling. These stations have become a stark reminder of the militarization of daily life, with people learning to load and fire assault rifles in a way that feels both practical and symbolic. In Vanak Square, for instance, a woman in a black chador practiced aiming an AK-47, guided by a masked instructor in military fatigues. Nearby, a small girl played with an unloaded Kalashnikov, pointing the rifle skyward before firing it and handing it back to her smiling teacher. The scene, while tense, carried an almost performative quality, as if the act of wielding a weapon was as much about unity as it was about readiness.
The state television networks have also amplified the message of mobilization. On live broadcasts, hosts and anchors have begun showcasing their familiarity with firearms, a shift that signals the growing normalization of military imagery in civilian life. Hossein Hosseini, a male presenter on Ofogh, demonstrated this by firing an assault rifle into the studio ceiling after receiving a lesson from a member of the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps. Similarly, Mobina Nasiri, a female anchor on Channel 3, held a rifle in both hands while addressing viewers, declaring, “They sent me a weapon from Vanak Square so that I too, like all of you, can learn how to use it.” Her statement, paired with the sight of the rifle, transformed the broadcast into a visual representation of the nation’s preparedness for war.
“They sent me a weapon from Vanak Square so that I too, like all of you people, can learn how to use it,” Mobina Nasiri said, her voice steady as she gripped the rifle. “We are not just watching this—we are living it.”
Amid the rising tensions, some Iranians remain skeptical of the escalating rhetoric. Just a short walk from the rally in Tajrish Square, a tranquil park near the Cinema Museum of Iran offers a different atmosphere. Here, locals linger over cups of tea, their conversations punctuated by the gentle hum of a breeze. Couples stroll hand in hand, and children dart between book stalls, where the scent of paper mingles with the aroma of brewed tea. A young man passing by paused to share his thoughts, saying, “No to war.” His sentiment was echoed by a university professor, who sat on a park bench with her husband. “We just want to live in a normal country where our children can have a future,” she whispered in English, her voice a quiet counterpoint to the noise of the nearby demonstrations. “We want peace,” another young woman added, highlighting the stark divide in perspectives across the nation.
Trump’s latest threats have come at a time when stalled peace talks are already fracturing hopes for a fragile ceasefire. The U.S. leader’s social media posts, often concise yet charged, have served as a constant reminder of the stakes involved. “Trump knows we don’t have a bomb, but he is attacking us anyway,” said an elderly man carrying a hand-written sign that read, “Nuclear and missile technology is as important as our borders, so we will protect them.” His words underscored the belief that Iran’s nuclear program is central to its national identity and survival. “We need nuclear power, clean energy, not a bomb,” he explained, pointing to the government’s refusal to abandon its controversial program as a key factor in the ongoing standoff.
As rumors swirl about imminent U.S.-Israeli strikes, the mood among many Iranians has shifted toward a sense of inevitability. Fatima, who grew up in London and Dubai, described the sentiment with a mix of resignation and defiance. “We know this war isn’t over. We know Trump is not really going to negotiate,” she said. “He’s just going to be, like, ‘You do what I tell you or I’m going to kill you.’ And then he’s going to attack us even if we do as he says.” Her observations reflect a growing awareness that the conflict, while not yet erupting into full-scale war, is rapidly evolving into a more militarized phase.
The government’s coordinated efforts to instill a sense of readiness have reached a critical point. From the streets to the television screens, the message is clear: Iran is not just preparing for war—it is embracing it. Yet, even as the country braces for escalation, there are moments of calm, reminders that not all Iranians share the same vision for the future. These contrasts, both in the physical spaces and in the voices of those who speak, highlight the complexity of the nation’s response to Trump’s renewed aggression. For some, the rally and the rifle represent a necessary stance against foreign domination. For others, they symbolize a world where the ordinary is overshadowed by the extraordinary, where the promise of peace seems increasingly distant.
CNN’s Alex Platt contributed to this report. EDITOR’S NOTE: CNN operates in Iran with the permission of the government. The presence of U.S. officials in the country, however, has not diminished the intensity of the demonstrations or the readiness of the population. As the night sky darkens and the gunfire echoes through the streets, the question remains: Will the nation’s resolve hold firm, or will it crack under the weight of war?
